Poké Wars: The Lapidescence (Subsistence Redux)
by Cornova
Summary: We were so blind. Now in our end of days, it's like seeing for the first time. Now everybody's true self comes out. We see how far we're willing to go to live. Worse is what we didn't wanna see: what was there all along. The creatures we thought we had conquered are gone, and what's left in our pockets are monsters.
1. Cats In The Cradle

**August 15 **

"_Da moon's beautiful tonight_," Meowth thought to himself, his view of the silver sphere broken only by the dark wisps of cloud that darted past his field of vision. "_I wonda if Meowsie's lookin' up too?_" It was a question he had asked himself at every full moon he saw; a question that still remained unanswered — and would likely remain that way for as long as he lived. She not only demolished the relationship, she burnt its foundations; he was never to be with her.

_So why do I still tink of her?_

The years had seen fit to dull the parts of his mind that held the details of her face. Piecing her visage from memory alone was like trying to paint on water. Within him, his emotions battled: part of him begged to know what she looked like; while the other part shouted it down with the simple retort "Who cares!?"

It wasn't the first time he'd started to forget what she looked like and it wasn't until the trip back to that town that his memory of her had been refreshed. "_It's been three years_," he reminded himself, as if to justify his own struggle to dig up her image.

Three years since his duel with Persian for Meowsie's love and eventual rejection.

Four years since they started following one kid and his electric starter.

Four years of failure and involuntary flights across the regions they traveled.

The thoughts were automatically shifted to the back of his mind, joining the dark closet where other negative thoughts languished until they're forgotten. It was a coping mechanism the team had learnt early on; dwelling on their failures was a weight they didn't need to carry to fulfill their missions.

It was better to simply forget their losses and focus on the next scheme; it was easier on their morale and spirit. Meowth imagined they'd all have quit long ago if they hadn't come up with that type of mental discipline.

There were times where they wouldn't even wait to land to start plotting. Tonight was not one of those nights. Tonight was silent, save for the wind rushing past their ears. Nights were some of the better times to blast off, if only because of the chance they had to see the moon and stars in their infinite beauty. Daytime blast-offs only promised a blinding sun beating down on them with its oppressive heat.

_But not tonight. Tonight we got dis view_.

Meowth sighed and opened his eyes; a soft smile touched his lips when the stars winked back at him, almost cheering them on.

_We should do our gig at night more often_.

Blasting off had been rough at first. Over time they grew accustomed to — even reveling in —their temporary weightlessness. Their acrophobia and discomfort at their inability to control their speed of flight and launch had long since vanished. Instead, they focused on the positive part: being the rare few privileged to fly without machines or Pokémon.

Unfortunately, one flaw remained. Without any sort of guidance system, they had no idea about when or where they were going to land.

Enough time had elapsed to be able to laugh about the old days. Newer members to their group were snapshots of the past. Indeed, blasting off had in some way been co-opted as a rite of passage for the group

Meowth turned his head to his teammate, soaring through the sky at his side. Periwinkle locks fluttered in the wind that tugged at his white jumpsuit, windblown ripples formed over the white plain. Jade green eyes gazed into the night sky; his face was serene as he drank in the starlight.

While the sight of moon brought him memories of Meowsie, Meowth had no idea what it invoked in Jessie and James. The years had brought them somewhat closer but his partners weren't entirely keen on divulging what had gone on in their lives. For each member of the trio, the lives of the others were like a jigsaw puzzle with the majority of the pieces missing; you could make out a few distinct images but there were large blanks and single puzzle pieces between those images.

A look to his right brought Jessie — crimson hair resolute against the raging gale — into view. While James had sported a determined stare, Jessie's eyes were somber and blank. It was a look that Meowth was unaccustomed to seeing; in fact, it was downright disturbing.

There was always flame within her eyes. Sometimes it blazed like the Firebird herself. Still other times, it guttered and wavered under an invisible wind. But regardless of what happened, that internal blaze never, ever went out. Whenever their motivation weakened, her blazing glare rekindled it. But now, her burning gaze was just a mere cinder. Her half-lidded and unsettlingly calm eyes gazed into the sky.

"Jessie…you 'kay?" Meowth sputtered out.

Muted blue eyes slid over to look at him. Her lips opened to form words, only to have them stillborn in her mouth. Her stare bore the tinges of uncertainty; her lips pressed tightly together into a thin red line, almost as if she feared their betrayal.

"We're coming up on a mountain," James announced in the bored manner of a taxi driver. Unaware of the moment between Jessie and Meowth, he grabbed the Scratch Cat Pokémon by reflex. Jessie brought out her pokéballs, a flash of light marking the release of her Yanmega and Wobbuffet. Six black spindly legs wrapped around James' waist as Wobbuffet maneuvered himself beneath his trainer. Despite being routine, James still felt a small surge of adrenaline as the ground rose up to meet them.

Yanmega's wings hummed as she plunged towards the earth, lifting up just before they hit the stony mountain road. A plume of dirt rose into the air to mark Jessie and Wobbuffet's landing zone. James' feet were dangling just a few inches off the ground before Yanmega released him onto the road that wound along the mountainside. Meowth hopped out of his grasp and made his way towards the settling dust cloud.

Jessie lay at the edge of the crater Wobbuffet had made. Her eyes were closed and her arms at her sides with the earth against her back. From all appearances, it appeared that she was sleeping. But since they had just landed from one of their blast-offs, the truth was likely to be far less pleasant.

* * *

"What happened?" Yanmega demanded, the buzzing of her powerful wings increasing in pitch and tempo. She stared daggers at the eyes on Wobbuffet's blue body.

"I-I don't know! She was fine when we landed and then she just fell over!" the Patient Pokémon cried back.

* * *

James was already kneeling over his partner. Unaware of the conversation being held around him, he scanned her body for any wounds. His confusion mounted when he found none.

"Jessie, are you okay? Come on, talk to me!" he pleaded.

A weak smile flickered on her lips before she opened her eyes. Shimmering blue met green. "I'm not hurt," she said, her voice a petering breeze that brushed aside dead leaves.

"Jessie, what's wrong?"

Her gaze was aimed straight up, shifting slightly as if studying the clouds and night sky for her next words."…I'm tired," she replied, her look turning piteous when the words didn't seem to register.

"I know we were up pretty late tonight but it's nothing we haven—" James went on until the tips of Jessie's fingers gently touched his lips.

"That's…not what I'm talking about, James." She pulled her fingers back and gave him a searching look.

Layers of emotion lifted over his eyes in the silence that deepened between them. Realization gave way to shock, then disbelief, then confusion, until it hardened into disapproval. Entire years were conveyed through extended stares and blinks; memories and phantom conversations wordlessly passed between them.

"Jess, I know it's been rough lately, but we can't give up now. Not after all we've been through. We'll catch the twerp's Pikachu for sure next time, I know it."

That familiar fire roared to life within the blue pools of Jessie's eyes once more. She sat up and shoved him aside, already on her feet when he lost his balance and fell back. Yanmega buzzed angrily until Meowth held up a paw and motioned for her to sit this one out. The Ogre Darner Pokémon was new to the group, so she hadn't gotten completely accustomed to the team's dynamic. She noticed Wobbuffet made no move to intervene and the look on Meowth's face said all she needed to know.

"And what if you're wrong, James? What if we fail again? Are we going to do the same thing we always do? Are we just going to try again the next day? And the day after that? Just like we've been doing for months? Just like we've been doing for _years_!? When does it end, James? What do we have to show for all the years we've been after that twerp?" Jessie snapped, each word slashing the night like a razor blade.

"Where is this coming from?" The bluenette dusted his pants as he stood back up.

"Where do you think!?"

"We've had this argument a hundred times and we've never gotten anywhere with it." James was a few feet from Jessie now. He had positioned himself so his height served not to intimidate but to convey that he wasn't going to back down this time.

"That's the problem! We're not getting anywhere doing this! We haven't gotten anywhere for years! Aren't you tired of being a loser? Aren't you sick of getting so close to success and then just having it torn away from you over and over again?" Jessie's face was flushed, the piercing blue of her eyes dimming once again.

"Of course I'm tired! Who wouldn't be? I…I thought we should've stopped ages ago, but…" James trailed off.

"But what, James!?"

"You still kept going. We always followed your lead, Jessie. There were plenty of times I wanted to quit, plenty of times I wanted to cut our losses and do something else. But you kept pushing us to keep tailing that twerp."

The silence that ensued was almost worse than the yelling.

"Is that what you think?" Jessie's voice was low and icy-calm. "Is that what you both think?"

Jessie's fiery glare now turned on the cat pokémon. Jessie watched his eyes lower, wringing the fur around his wrists with his paws. Meowth had learned long ago that his input meant nothing when the arguments degenerated to this degree; in fact there were times where his words only served to inflame already hurt feelings.

A bitter and icy laugh emanated from the redhead. "Oh, so it's all_ my_ fault! You two are perfectly innocent, is that it? Fine, it's _all my fault_. I've been pushing you two into doing this entire time!"

She smiled a cruel, mocking smile. "And now, now that I want to stop, you want to keep going? That's rich!"

Her icy gaze locked onto James next. "Rich. Ha! That's perfect. Especially coming from you, James!"

"Where are you going with that?" James growled. His normally calm voice carried tone of menace that went unnoticed.

"If you've wanted to quit all this time, then you should've just left. Why don't you just quit Team Rocket while you're at it? You're the only one on this team with any actual family to go back to," Jessie spat. "Go on! Run back to Mommy, Daddy, and Jessebelle. Get married, be rich again, and maybe, if you ask nicely, they'll even buy you an actual spine!"

Meowth hardly believed his eyes when James slapped Jessie across the face and from the look in their eyes, neither did they. Echoes of her earlier scream were swallowed by the crisp sound of his glove against her face. The sound seemed to carry across the mountain and into the surrounding woods before eventually dissipating into the silence. Even then, some part of the sound continued to echo in their minds. Jessie stumbled back from the blow, her stunned expression aimed to the mountainside.

In all the years they had been together, James had never struck her like that. Part of Meowth wanted to believe that someone else had done it. The James he knew couldn't have pulled that off; it had to be someone else. James had always been placid and compliant, save for those tiny cracks.

He had endured bites from Victreebel, painful hugs with Cacnea and head nibbles by Carnivine without protest. Years of verbal abuse from his own teammates had been tolerated. Even the forced reduction of his beloved bottle cap collection had been somewhat taken in stride. It was then that Meowth realized that despite everything the world had thrown at him, no one had ever actually truly set James off. But when Jessie threw his pedigree in his face, she had crossed the line.

The only sound now left was James' breathing, the angry expression on his face held for a few seconds before dissolving into concern. He stared at offending hand, then back to Jessie, then back to his hand.

"Jessie…I'm sorry! I just…I got so angry I…I wasn't thinki—" James' apology was cut short when his partner's boot slammed into his stomach. Yanmega's wings gave off a hum that Meowth could only assume was satisfaction while Wobbuffet was still gaping from the initial slap. James roared when her heel dug into his gut until he grabbed her ankle, backing away with her leg in tow until she lost balance and fell.

Jessie swiped at his ankles with her free leg, bringing him to his knees. A punch to his face was exchanged for a full body lunge. Soon, the two were sprawled out on the mountain footpath as they furiously wrestled.

* * *

"Are we really going to let them do this?" Wobbuffet asked.

"Sometimes ya gotta jus' let'em get it outta dere system," Meowth replied, his face grim as he watched his partners roll across the ground. The fight didn't last long, a few minutes at best. The two weren't fighters by any stretch of the imagination. James sat on Jessie's stomach, pinning her wrists to the ground.

* * *

"You're wrong Jessie," he panted; the shimmer in his eyes made her struggles against his grip cease. "I don't have a family to go to if I leave Team Rocket. In spite of everything, you are my family, Jess. You. Meowth. Wobbuffet. Our pokémon. They're all family to me. So don't you dare tell me to leave!"

James's composure shattered with the last word, his hands slid from Jessie's wrists to hang at his sides. An anguished sob left his lowered head, shoulders shuddering with each heave until he teetered and fell onto his side. Jessie lay where she had been pinned, taking deep breaths to calm herself. Whatever thoughts were going through her head seemed determined on cracking her resolve if her glistening eyes were any indication.

"I can't keep doing this." Her voice hitched; the words were like a realization, confession, and declaration all in one. "_We_ can't keep doing this," she hastily added. "I feel like I'm wasting my life on this chase. I've given years of my life to this mission. I know I can't get those back but I'll be damned if I give any more. If you want to keep going at this…I won't stop you."

Jessie blinked back the tears and failed, letting them flow down the sides of her face and mix with her makeup. She didn't care anymore; she was sure she already looked like hell and tears weren't going to make her look any worse than she already felt.

The night air grew silent once more. The sting and aches of the duo's cuts and bruises was their only comfort.

Eventually the silence was broken when Jessie gave a long and exasperated sigh, almost as if she were deflating. "I'm sorry, James. I shouldn't have said that earlier. I know it's a sensitive subject and I'm sorry I brought it up. I guess I just never understood how you could throw it all away. I mean, we saw with our own eyes what your parents and fiancée are like."

The trio visibly shivered in unison at the memory, leaving Yanmega and Wobbuffet to wonder at the horrors they had seen. "But for all that money…" Jessie's voice trailed off, her eyes closing when she spoke. "I think about how my life would've been different if we'd switched places. You didn't want people choosing your life for you but growing up I wish I had someone to point me in a direction. I didn't know what I wanted to do with myself. Everything I tried blew up in my face and sent me back to square one. Life was hard for me; I begged, stole and scavenged just to get by. Even eating snow when things were desperate."

"You're not the only one who knows what that's like. I wasn't always in the lap of luxury," James muttered.

"Right…" Jessie whispered back, clearly having forgotten that James had tasted a bit of what she had gone through. "I joined Team Rocket because I figured I'd follow in my mother's footsteps and in a way I'd feel close to my mother again. They told me that she was the boss's greatest agent and how she never gave up on a mission.

"Those were some big shoes to fill. I wasn't like that at all. I gave up on anything the moment I failed it and I didn't want this to be one of those times. That's probably why we've been at this for so long. In the end, her vaunted tenacity, was what ended up killing her."

Jessie sighed as she recalled her mother's memories. "As much as I love her, I don't want to walk down that same path. I'm not going to waste my life to this job."

No one spoke for a good while. What could any of them say? James had been trying to run away from his old life and Meowth was just trying to find a way to put food in his belly. By comparison, their reasons for joining Team Rocket shriveled pathetically in the face of hers.

"…Okay." James eventually sighed.

"Okay what?" Jessie half-asked, half-demanded.

"If you want to quit chasing after that twerp and his Pikachu, I quit too. Wherever you go Jess, I'm coming with you. We're a team and I promised I would never let you down if I could help it."

"Me too," Meowth added, "No matta where ya go, I'm comin wit ya too."

"Me three!" Wobbuffet chimed in, which Jessie and James heard only as the cry of his own name.

A trio of weak smiles graced their features when the first fingers of dawn reached into the sky beyond the mountain.

"It's morning," James said wistfully.

"I guess we should get some sleep," Jessie said with a yawn, returning Yanmega and Wobbuffet to their pokéballs.

"We can call da boss fer help in da mornin," Meowth said through a yawn, plopping down next to them and settling down on the stone. They had slept in worse places and part of being a Team Rocket field agent was learning how to catch a few winks in any sort of terrain. Within minutes they were out cold and snoring up a storm, ignorant to the sun's slow but majestic arc across the sky.

* * *

It was midday when they awoke. The cloudy skies above spared them the worst of the sun's harsh rays. But old habits die hard; the first thoughts to enter their minds were of the schemes they would pull on the twerps, until they realized they would no longer pursuing Pikachu. The realization was like a weight lifted, followed by concern with the uncertainty of their future.

"Rest well?" James asked.

"Well enough, but I'm starvin'," Meowth chimed in.

"We left most of our food back where we caught the twerp and his Gligar," Jessie said with a sigh. As if for emphasis, three growling stomachs echoed through the rocky plain.

"I could try russlin' up some food from da berries in da forest." Meowth pointed his paw to the woods below.

"Take Yanmega and Wobbuffet with you, we'll contact the boss and see if we can get a ride."

Meowth nodded, awaiting the twin flashes of his companions before making his way down the mountainside. James fished into one of his back pockets and pulled out a comlink that connected them to command. Usually they phoned a special line to requisition costumes, equipment, Meowth balloons, and mechas for when they entered the next town. Traveling by balloon would be too slow for them to complete their cross-region journey timely manner. They had been ordering various materiels for years — long enough that Giovanni generally cleared their requests without a second thought. At least, as long as it wasn't too expensive.

Team Rocket R&amp;D loved making and sending them the mechas they used for their daily schemes. They saw it as an opportunity to push their equipment to the breaking point and beyond. As a result, they expected detailed reports with regards to the mechas' performance and failure mechanism. Other methods of transport generally required Giovanni's clearance.

James and Jessie listened and waited while the device rang. Though they didn't voice it, they were grateful that this comlink was voice only; one could tolerate the disapproving and irritated glare that Giovanni transmitted through a vidlink for so long. The device crackled to life, asking them for their password which took the form of their motto. Once their voices had been recognized by the system and verified as being theirs, they were put through to Giovanni's office.

Strangely, what greeted them wasn't Giovanni's deep, electronically distorted voice. Instead, it was a woman.

"This is Sinnoh Team Rocket field agents James and Jessie; I believe we asked to be in contact with the boss," Jessie said into the device's mic.

"_I'm his secretary, Matori_," the voice replied, her tone cool and clinical. "_Giovanni is currently busy with other matters that require his attention at the moment. However, I may be able to assist you in his stead. What is your request_?"

"We're requesting transportation to Canalave City"

"_What happened to the Gliscor prototype that was sent to you_?"

"We found that it couldn't stand up to the real thing."

"_I see_," Matori replied, dragging out the last word as she perused through their profiles on her tablet. Slow and agonizing seconds of silence ensued, making them wonder whether the call had dropped or the other side had simply hung up.

"_Is there any particular reason you do not wish to simply use another Meowth balloon_?" she asked.

"We thought it better to get to the other side of the region as quickly as possible. We haven't been having too much luck in this part of the region," James replied.

"_Does this have anything to do with a certain electric pokémon_?" Matori asked as she scrolled through rows and rows of reports, each attributing their failure to one particular rodent.

"Technically it does," Jessie jumped in, "But we've decided that it would be better for the future of Team Rocket if we pursued something else. We're hoping the other side of the region hasn't heard of us yet and we'll be able to exploit that."

"_Please hold while I review your case._"

* * *

Matori leaned back in her chair and sighed. She was almost afraid to scroll down any further, seeing that many of their reports dated back to before she had even been hired. It came as no surprise that her boss had either forgotten or out and out repressed the existence about these particular field agents. She leaned forward again, adjusting her glasses with the heel of her palm as she looked through their profiles on her tablet again.

"They've been after this one Pikachu for years. Doesn't Giovanni already have several high-level Raichu? Why would he even need one Pikachu? They've repeatedly stated in their reports that this is no ordinary Pikachu…" Matori's eyes flitted back and forth across the lines of text. A list of pokémon the mouse had defeated had appeared, ranging from a Rhydon to a Regice.

"Interesting…though it doesn't really excuse so many years of misused funding. I'm surprised to hear Giovanni hasn't already fired them. Then again, we're not really in the position where we could let go of agents. We still need every bit of manpower we can get.

"There has to be some reason Giovanni is keeping them around. Okay, let's see. Jessie… Miyamoto was her mother? Her results during training were promising but found difficulty working with others until she was paired with her current partner. How about James…" Matori switched windows and brought up James's dossier.

The sheer number of times Matori had raised her eyebrows in such a short period of time practically etched lines into her forehead.

"Son and heir to his family estate and fortune; no wonder Giovanni's keeping him. Knowing him he's considered using him for ransom should he prove too much trouble to keep or as another way of eventually planting seeds into the Kantonian aristocracy." The woman read off James's dossier.

Matori reviewed the allocation of their funds. Most of their funds went to food, transport, costumes and field equipment.

"Apparently these two played a part in forcing Hoenn's Team Magma and Team Aqua to dissolve. According to the R&amp;D department, their frequent field tests have provided some insight for improvements on the structural weaknesses of vehicles and equipment we actually use in the field. But even if I were to send them a transport, what could quickly make the journey from Kanto to Sinnoh and back?"

Matori minimized the profiles and opened up their inventory, glancing over several aircraft. Most of them were currently in use, either by the construction arm of Team Rocket, for transport or on other missions. Those that weren't being used lacked the range to make the trip. Waiting for one to be freed up would take too long and slow down both parties. It wasn't long before she found one particular model that caught her eye. It was listed as one of Giovanni's personal transports. Mechanically, it was in perfect shape but according to one of the notes on file it was put into storage for somehow reminding him of failure.

"That sounds like him," Matori said to herself. She read the specs of the craft. It was an interesting design — a hybrid of a helicopter and jet that combined the best of both aircraft: the speed and maneuverability of a jet with the vertical takeoff and hovering capability of a helicopter. Unfortunately, it came at the cost of high fuel consumption and maintenance.

"Taking the distance into the consideration, it should be able to make the trip there and back with minimal stops to refuel." The secretary examined the model of the aircraft and nodded. "It's probably too good for this team, but it's fast and should be able to get the job done quickly and quietly. Giovanni hasn't used it in years seeing as Dr. Zager was already designing a new aircraft for future operations in Unova. I doubt he'll miss this one."

Again, Matori examined Jessie and James's dossiers. "Granted, with their track record, I really shouldn't approve their request for this aircraft. But maybe I can send someone to take them where they need to go."

Matori closed the windows, sending a message to ping the first available pilot for a pick-up and drop-off mission.

"Canalave? Butch and Cassidy have reported rumors about a new team surfacing in that region. Most of their exploits have been regarding museum pieces. Its library is well-known for its vast archives of historical artifacts and tomes. These three may be onto something. They have the makings of a great team; this just may be their big break." Matori unmuted herself and took the call off hold.

* * *

"_After looking through your profiles and history, I regret to inform you that at the present moment there are no available transports Giovanni can spare to send you for your personal use. However, I may be able to send someone to deliver you to your destination. Seeing as you utilized all of your funds on the last prototype you ordered, the cost for fuel and maintenance will be deducted from the next stipend you receive_."

"That'll do just fine," James replied, making no effort to hide the relief in his voice.

"How soon can we expect them to pick us up?" Jessie asked.

"_It may take some time for the transport to get to you from Kanto to Sinnoh. The earliest I can imagine it arriving would be tonight; the pilot will need to refuel at the coast before dropping you off. Please leave your device on so our satellites can locate you and send the coordinates to the pilot. Will that be all for today_?"

"That will be all for now," James said, waiting for the line to go dead before he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Things are gonna change for the better." Jessie's hand landed on his own and made him smile.

"I found some grub!" Meowth called out and made their heads turn, followed by an angry buzz and a loud, "Woobb!"

"Okay! Okay! _We_ found some grub," the cat amended, dropping an assortment of berries on the ground before them. "How'dit go?"

"We got a ride, it'll be here tonight," Jessie replied.

"Whaddya wanna do 'til den?"

"We could work on a new motto, or maybe we could go back to the old one? It'll definitely sound new to people who aren't the twerps," James suggested.

"I don't think we've quite worn out this motto just yet," Jessie interjected, picking up a berry and holding up before them. "For now though, a toast to what I hope will be the last time we see the twerps."

James grabbed his own berry and held up as well, "To no longer blasting off after every failure."

"Ta actually bein da best membas of Team Rocket, 'an finally havin da boss be prouda us!" Meowth added, pressing his meal against theirs. Not to be outdone, Wobbuffet added his berry to the mix and ultimately had the last word with the utterance of his name.

"Cheers!" they cried and raised the fruit to their lips.

* * *

At some point while they had waited Jessie had fallen asleep, her head resting in the crook of her partner's neck and shoulder. If James minded, he said nothing and rested with his cheek pressed against the top of her head. Meowth's body was sprawled across the ground beside them, snoring softly and masking the distant sound of the rotor blades until it drew closer.

They began to stir once the sound grew louder, but it wasn't until they were sprayed with gravel and dirt that the slumber was truly torn from their eyes. The glossy H-shaped windshield faced them for a few seconds before it turned away to reveal the row of windows on the sides. Two ducted rotors flanking the craft pivoted as it gently touched down on the rocky ground.

The door slid open as they approached, revealing a spacious interior with enough room to comfortably fit at least eight agents. Meowth recognized the model as the type that had chased him and his clone during a siege against Mewtwo in the Johto region. That version was armed with a chin-mounted paralysis turret whereas this one appeared to be unarmed. Once the trio was inside and seated, the side door slid back into place and the whine of the engines spooling up echoed through the cabin.

"Thanks for the pickup." James yawned; the pilot's response was the press of a button that shut the door between their section and his, his back turned to them the entire time. While roomy, the chairs were built with numerous sharp right angles. James had tried several positions before simply giving up and doing his best to nod off while sitting upright. It quickly became a fruitless effort when the slightest rumble shook him back to consciousness.

James wondered how late it was, if only to gauge how long he would need put up with shifting in and out of sleep. From what he could see there were no visible clocks, leaving only the cockpit with a taciturn pilot. Whether by instinct or choice, Jessie's body had slowly migrated over to him once more. The high altitude and night air made him slightly grateful for the warmth. Slightly, if only because of what her proximity did to him.

It had taken everything in his power to keep his cool when he had first seen Jessie during their Team Rocket training. At first he had thought Jessebelle had found him again. The thought of escaping the premises had entered his head numerous times. At that moment, it seemed as though nowhere in civilized society was safe from his fiancée and parents.

It wasn't until Sergeant Viper prompted Jessie to speak that he felt some of the tension leave his body. Despite her fervent desire to marry into his family, Jessebelle's headstrong personality demanded that everyone else change for her. Taking the time to remove her thick Southern drawl would've been too much effort for his sake. In comparison, molding James to her liking was child's play.

The resemblance was as frightening as it was uncanny, almost enough to make James wonder if somehow the two were related by blood. Even though their similarities were more than skin deep, there were certain differences that made her preferable than Jessebelle.

Jessie's skill with a chain (an artifact from her days as "Chainer Jessie") was much like Jessebelle's mastery of the whip. That said; Jessie had never used that skill against him, unlike his fiancée who saw her groom as a wild animal to be broken to her will. Like Jessebelle, Jessie had a temper that could only be described as "volcanic". As a result, Meowth and James were often the target of her fury. Compared to Jessie's explosive bursts of pique, Jessebelle's displeasure was cold and insidious; she did not lash out but instead, honed her anger into something with purpose and cruelty.

At first James was happy that his partner was his fiancée's spitting image. Not only did it keep the relationship strictly professional, it was a constant reminder of what he faced should he decide to leave Team Rocket. Jessebelle's face became a symbol of servitude and pain but over the years he had stopped seeing his fiancée when he looked at his partner in crime.

"_She looks so…calm_," James thought, unaccustomed to seeing the fiery woman so subdued and tranquil. Her lips parted slightly when she breathed, the ever-present lipstick was now wiped away.

_She really doesn't need it. If she only left her hair is down and_…

James shook his head as if to shake the impure thoughts from his mind._ I shouldn't be thinking about this. I'm not going to make things awkward between us. It's taken us years to be completely comfortable around each other and I'm not going to ruin that. What I have with her right now…it's probably the best thing I've ever had with another person. _

"_Dese two don't need de opposite sex cause dey got each odda._" Meowth's words from years back echoed in his mind. Meowth himself was snoring softly in one of the seats he had sprawled upon, absentmindedly scratching himself in his sleep.

"_I guess I just never understood how you could throw it all away_." Jessie's words echoed within his head.

_If there had been a way to get rid of Jessebelle, if I could have at least chosen who I wanted to marry…as long as I got married… would my parents even care who it was? They picked Jessebelle because they wanted me to shape up, but Jessie's always been the one to give structure to my life, to our missions at least. Would my parents be able to see that?_

A part of him knew they wouldn't. Regardless of whether Jessie could be good for him the way his fiancée was supposed to be; it was a choice he had made. And that automatically made it invalid. Jessie wasn't a noblewoman or even wealthy, making her chances at being a potential wife nonexistent.

_Would they even need to know it was her? We could get rid of Jessebelle and all Jessie would need to do is change up her hair and her voice. That wouldn't be difficult, it's not like we haven't dressed up and changed our voices to fool the twerps and the rest of the world. _

"_I gave up on anything that I ever tried and I didn't want this to be one of those times_," the redhead's voice again rang within James's head.

"Marrying you…it would be so much easier," James whispered, hoping everyone was too deeply asleep to hear him. A stray magenta strand of hair hung over Jessie's brow until he gently pushed it back behind her ear. She smiled and mumbled something drowsily, but James figured she must've been having a pleasant dream.

_If I had to marry someone, I can't think of anyone I would marry but her. Then again I don't really know any women besides her. Would she even marry me?_

"But for all that money…" The memory of Jessie's voice taunted him.

_She might. She would do it for the money. But we…we could be happy. We wouldn't need to do this anymore. I could inherit my family's fortune and estate and could even fund Team Rocket. We could support them in that way, it wouldn't mean she was giving up! _

Meowth's sudden screams derailed his train of thought and roused Jessie from her sleep. Before they could even ask him what was wrong, a flash from Jessie's pokéballs filled the room. When the light dimmed Wobbuffet, Yanmega, and Seviper appeared in the rows of seats behind them. Carnivine and Mime Jr. were next to appear on the rows of seats before them. But there was no head nibble from the grass type. That was the first signal that something was terribly wrong. Instead, what filled the void of the absent ritual were anguished screams straight out of their worst nightmares.

Meowth's claws were extended, carving into cushions with every cry. The stuffing bled out through the rips. His normally calm eyes were narrow slits, unfocused and wild like the raised hair and menacing stance he had suddenly adopted.

They had seen Meowth under the influence of several things over the years, but nothing compared to the feral creature that he had transformed into. Jessie suddenly felt James's arms wrap around her waist before he pulled her to the floor between the rows of seats where he joined her.

James's heart momentarily stopped as he felt the rush of air from a swipe of Meowth's claws that narrowly missed his head.

Yanmega pinballed off the walls, each impact leaving behind a large dent. The grotesque tattoo of a pokémon slamming against solid metal abruptly stopped when the Ogre Darner slammed into Meowth. In too much pain to stop himself, the Scratch Cat tumbled down the aisle until he collided with the bulkhead at the opposite end of the craft, mercifully rendering himself unconscious. Wobbuffet's lanky arms wrapped around his bloated blue body as he rocked like a demented metronome. Mime Jr. writhed on the floor, caught in the throes of this mysterious affliction. Carnivine opened his spiny maw and began firing Bullet Seeds, every spasm unleashing another salvo in a random direction. Some bounced harmlessly off the bulkhead; others punched holes in the aircraft's thin metal fuselage.

Seviper contorted and writhed, every convulsion caused his razored tail to swing wildly. Yanmega eventually stopped careening throughout the interior and settled for flailing in mid-air, vibrating her wings until it seemed that they had disappeared. The ensuing screech swallowed everyone's screams and blew out every window. The shattered fragments were sucked out into the ravenous emptiness outside and lost to the winds.

Whether an involuntary attack or a simple attempt to make the pain and noise stop, Carnivine unleashed a barrage of seeds at the Ogre Darner pokémon, heedless of whether anyone was in his path.

Unfortunately, Wobbuffet happened to be right in the line of fire. The Patient Pokémon shuddered with every projectile that ripped through him until he eventually succumbed to the barrage. His body teetered and eventually fell over into a pool of his own blood. Yanmega fared far worse. The near point-blank barrage of Bullet Seed had reduced Yanmega's body into something that best described as "chunky green sludge".

Bits of membranous wing fluttered about like morbid confetti, dancing to the raging hiss of air rushing out from the innumerable holes in the cabin walls. Streaks of lavender marked the frantic slashes from Seviper's tail, even his own body bore the scars of the thrashing. James watched as his Carnivine continued firing at random. The bluenette's eyes widened as the gaping maw faced him. He shuddered, awaiting the inevitable barrage of seeds that would tear through his body.

But they never came. A flash of gleaming black and purple bit deep into Carnivine's throat.

Carnivine's ovoid head rolled when it hit the floor, rocking back and forth before its jagged maw limply parted. Seviper's hisses grew weaker and weaker until a heavy thud and a clatter marked his fall. And an end to the chaos.

Jessie's heart was beating equally hard against James's own. While some small part of them enjoyed the other's presence and proximity, a larger part of them wanted nothing more than to stay still and hope the universe overlooked them.

Seconds stretched into eternities while James's mind was still in freefall. Wind whistled through the riddled walls and sparks rained from the remnants of the cabin lights. Jessie was the first to slowly rise off her partner and look around the room.

Meowth lay still against a large dent in the showing where he had hit the bulkhead. There was more red and purple than blue on Wobbuffet's body, his mouth and pseudo eyes unrecognizable with dozens of wet and crimson burrows that marred his body. Blood trickled down the Seviper's sleek obsidian scales, each wound another self-inflicted scar for the future.

Jessie ran over to the cockpit door. Her fear had been replaced by her Team Rocket training. On autopilot, she practically punched the button. The door creaked as its damaged motors struggled to open it. James watched his fellow field agent; he could see the muscles in her body tensed and ready to strike. She already knew which of the pilot's compartments had the medical kit; her worries of who could be actually saved would need to wait until she could try and treat them. It was as the doors began to part that Jessie noticed the holes that riddled the metal.

James watched his partner's initial attempt at a lunge and saw that the distance she traveled could've been measured in millimeters. Her stance shifted when she flinched; the determined look in her eyes faltered and gave way to surprise. One step away from the door became two, then three. When she said nothing James ran to her side, seeing what had stopped her in her tracks.

The clear windshield was covered with a red film and instead of the faint odor of hydraulic fluid and lubricants, there was the overpowering animal stench of iron.

The pilot's body was slumped over and sprawled across the controls; a single red light blinked amidst the cerise coated controls. The fact that the autopilot was still on gave them little comfort as they watched the blood trickle down the sides of his seat, feeding into the growing pool at the base.

James felt as though his blood had left his face the join the pool, his body suddenly cold and his head felt light. It wasn't his first time seeing blood; yet no matter how many times he saw it, any ounce of courage he had drained away with the blood from his face. Bile rose into his throat as he looked up from the pool and saw what had decorated the controls. Bits of plastic from the pilot's helmet were scattered amidst the brain and bone fragments that pasted the console. A series of blinking numbers caught his attention and finally gave James an answer to one of his questions.

It was 12:03 AM.


	2. Two For the Show

**I'd also like to take this moment to really thank Zarrelion for his help with this chapter.  
**

* * *

**11:57 PM**

* * *

"_Just three more_," Dawn thought as she held up Johanna's first ribbon to the night sky. The priceless memento, its orange ribbons faded to a dusty yellow by the years, caught the dim moonlight; the still burnished medallion softly glowed in the light as if it were radiating old memories.

"I caught a Swinub a few days ago. He's always hungry, but he knows a few ice moves. I've already thought of a bunch of combinations with him and Buneary or even Piplup. Maybe I'll introduce you to him when we see each other again over videophone," she whispered into an imaginary telephone handset.

A small part of her practically heard her mother reply. Another part of her found the whole notion to be silly — childish even — but the whole rehearsal provided some comfort for Dawn

A bizarre buzzing snore briefly lifted the silence of the night before letting it rush back in like a wave upon the shore. Dawn stifled a giggle behind her hand as she stuffed the trinket into her bag with the other ribbons. She turned her gaze to the raven-haired trainer from Pallet Town, sleeping deeply beside his electric starter, Pikachu. Brock twisted and mumbled in his sleeping bag; wistful and unintelligible murmurs were all she could decipher from him.

"_You're lucky to have such good friends_," Johanna's phantom voice echoed in her head.

"You're right," she whispered back with a smile. Dawn never had siblings, but she couldn't help but feel that this is what it would be like to have older brothers.

Despite his quirks around other girls, Brock never ceased to impress her with his knowledge of pokémon and his skills as a cook. Ash's unyielding determination was admirable, never allowing an obstacle or setbacks to keep him down for long. It was the admiration of that persistence that kept some part of her going during the rougher patches of her own journey. That said, Ash's persistence often manifested itself in his laser-like focus on pokémon and related subjects. Talking to him about anything else was quite a difficult task.

Dawn's thoughts were broken when she noticed Pikachu's ears twitch in the stillness of the night. Normally, she'd pay no heed to it but since there was nothing else to notice, she turned her gaze towards the electric mouse's ears.

A muted groan issued from Pikachu's sleeping form. It wasn't a groan of pain — more like a groan from a bad dream or an uncomfortable sleep.

Dawn paid Pikachu no heed, until the muted crackling of electrical discharges grabbed her full attention. She noticed sparks beginning to dance across his fur as he began to twitch. Her stomach dropped as she realized that she was about to witness something horrible.

Bursts of light turned night into day. The silent night was shattered by a hellish symphony of groans and squeals. Brock and Ash woke up immediately, their grogginess rapidly traded for guarded glances.

Before the two of them could do anything more than watch, Pikachu darted away from them. He managed a few meters until he stumbled, slid across the dirt and rolled with his paws pressed against his temples as if trying to keep his head from bursting.

Piplup's cries tore Dawn's attention away from Pikachu. Whirling around, she was treated to the sight of bubbles pouring from the penguin pokémon's parted beak. But these bubbles sounded different, instead of a tiny _pop_, each burst bubble came with a thunderous roar. Wooden splinters and leaves flew into the air as each projectile impacted against the surrounding trees. The water starter's eyes were scrunched tight; every bubble sending his body into convulsions.

Ambipom's tails whirled around her body like whips. Each swing launched forth salvo of stars. Some of the stars shattered against the trees leaving glittering dust hanging in the air; others sliced through thick trunks, leaving faint red embers behind.

Chimchar's convulsions finally got the better of him as he curled into a ball. With a surge of heat that charred the nearby trees, flames enveloped his body. The fireball jittered for a brief moment before it rocketed deep into the woods, leaving a trail of burning debris behind.

The crash of falling trees briefly drowned out the tortured cries of the pokémon. At some point Dawn and the others had slipped out of their sleeping bags but stood frozen as they watched the grotesque tableau unfold.

Streaks of lavender flashed around Croagunk's head as he seemingly tried to split his own head open. Turtwig and Gliscor rammed into everything and anything nearby in a desperate attempt to make their pain stop; it was to no avail, the trees splintered under the savage blow, doing nothing to assuage their pain.

Pikachu's body had begun to grow brighter — almost as if there were a light within him. At the same time, the electrical hum that emanated from him grew to an almost deafening level. Ash suppressed his rising tide of fear as he approached his starter. He took no more than two steps before a small bolt struck his shoulder. A quavering yell escaped the trainer's lips before vicious spasms silenced him.

Brock rushed to catch the convulsing trainer and not a moment too soon. His legs buckled as if from a kick. Ash's head was thrown back as if by a blow from an invisible fist; his signature hat went flying over Brock's shoulder. Ash's arms seized and trembled, muscles jittering and lips contorted into a painful rictus.

Then, as if someone had hit an invisible switch, Ash collapsed into Brock's hold. The older trainer gently lowered him to the ground. In those brief seconds, they had never seen a more unsettling sight. It appeared that incredible strength of will and tenacity that had served Ash so well over the years had finally collided with the hard limits of his body.

Pikachu lashed out with whips of lightning, scorching the dirt and crowning the blades of grass with glowing embers. Dozens of electric tendrils arced from his body, tracing an unseen pattern across the forest floor, as if goaded to dance at his cries.

"Dawn, help me with Ash!" Brock roared over the din of the chaos, backpedaling as fast as he could with Ash's body in tow. The young coordinator stood frozen, blankly staring back into the breeder's squinted eyes.

Some part of her understood the words, but how to respond or put them to action drew up nothing in her mind.

"His legs!" he barked. "Grab his legs!"

A flash and a sudden chill broke her out of her trance; the sleeping bag she had been in only seconds ago was crowned with shards of ice.

Brock's command suddenly registered and she flew to his side, reaching down to grab Ash's ankles. Lifting him wasn't hard with Brock shouldering most of the weight; the difficulty came with knowing she was leaving her pokémon behind. Pale blue bolts of ice and stars darted across the corners of her vision. A glance over Brock's shoulder revealed the terrain ahead of them as a patchwork of ice and forest.

Stones and twigs bit through the fabric of her socks and into her skin; every yelp came as a reminder that all she had were literally the clothes on her back. A hesitantly raised and still shaky arm pointed back to the carnage they were fleeing from. Dawn gazed into Ash's eyes and although she could see herself in their glossy sheen; she knew his stare went straight through her.

Night turned into day once more as her shadow stretched ahead as if to steal a few more meters of safety. Dawn dared not look back, all her mental energies focused on blocking out the noise that begged her to turn her head out of morbid curiosity. Looking back would immediately destroy her mental fortitude. With every meter they put behind, the soundtrack of madness softened ever so slightly.

As their maddened flight lengthened, their steps shortened and slowed. Lured by the illusion of safety granted by their distance, they began to relax.

Only milliseconds after they let their guard down, the air around them exploded into a deafening roar. The flash and crash of thunder were seamless; the earth beneath their feet trembled as the wall of sound hit them and knocked them to the ground.

An incessant ringing had devoured all sound. Any noise they heard came muffled, as if through a wall or under water. In the darkness behind their closed eyes their awareness shrunk inward; the entirety of their world had regressed to the surface of their bodies. They lay on the ground for some time; heartbeats and strained breathing their only link to the passage of time.

It was as if their bodies feared to move at first; afraid of having the façade of safety ripped from them once more. Subtle details once overlooked stood out like beacons. As if to compensate for her temporary deafness, Dawn had become hyperaware of the dirt beneath her fingers, the fabric of Ash's shirt against her face and the sound of his thundering heart. She slowly pushed herself off of him. Brock took the sudden lessening of weight as his cue to wriggle out from underneath them.

Dawn and Brock moved about wordlessly, leaving the distant crackle of fire to fill in the gap of conversation. Brock's hand reached down to grab Ash's own as he helped him to his feet. He slung the arm over his shoulder while Dawn took the hint and did the same for the other.

After a few tentative steps, Ash was able to support some of his own weight. They lifted their heads up slowly and gazed into the woods, a foreboding silence hanging over them like a fog. The trip back to their campsite was long and slow. Not because of the distance they had fled, but because their morbid curiosity forced them to look at the ravaged forest around them and the tortuous path they had took through the woods.

Happiny was the first to be found, surrounded by a ring of fallen trees and shredded stumps. Brock was immediately at her side and on his knees; Ash and Dawn could only watch as he held her in his arms and whispered softly to her. Dawn watched his hand tremble as it hung over her mouth to feel her breath. His attempts to put on a neutral face had already begun to crack.

"Brock…is she…" Ash's voice trailed off, his expression starting to darken at the implication.

The tension suddenly lifted from Brock's shoulders as a smile of relief softened his features. "She's okay. She's breathing. It just looks like she's unconscious." Brock returned the playhouse pokémon to her poke ball.

"Thank goodness." Dawn sighed, bringing her free hand to rest on her chest as if to still her beating heart. Ash smiled and let out a breath that he hadn't known he'd been holding.

"I think we should split up to find our pokémon," Ash said. Two sets of eyes bored into him with a gaze that was incredulous, concerned and angry.

"I dunno, Ash. I don't think you should be walking around too much; that last attack looked like—" the bluenette began.

"Guys, it's okay. I'm fine. I can walk without your help." Ash shrugged off Dawn's arm and took a few shaky steps but was able to stand without issue for a full minute.

"We should still make our way back to the campfire so we at least we know where to come back to," Brock said. Ash and Dawn nodded their assent as they made their way over to his side.

* * *

Smoke wafted lazily from their belongings in the clearing, the scene eerily calm compared to what had transpired moments before. Astoundingly, none of their personal items appeared too worse for the wear, save for some minor scorching. Ash burst into a sprint at the first sight of yellow, halfway to his destination, his muscles gave out as he stumbled and fell to the ground. Dawn and Brock both cried out his name as they ran over to assist him.

But it was to no avail; Ash silenced the calls of his own name as his vision narrowed down to that yellow lump on the scorched earth. He inched his way over to Pikachu's fallen form; the electric mouse's back was to him and his tail lying flat against the ground.

He reached out but a single spark launched off the starter's fur making him unconsciously flinch away. The trainer stood frozen over Pikachu's body. Seconds ticked by until a solid minute of stillness and silence had passed.

Brock was about to warn the trainer against touching Pikachu; a single look at Dawn would have indicated that she was about to echo his message. Indeed, she was about to speak her mind until Brock placed a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. That simple action stole the words forming on her tongue.

All they needed to do was look at Ash to know that his feelings and thoughts mirrored their own. It was as if his hands had met a wall, his trembling fingers unable to close the last few inches between him and one of his oldest friends. The memory of the jolt was all too fresh in his mind; fear stayed his hands.

No further bolts leapt from his starter's fur but the initial spark and the risk of another one was all that was needed to immobilize him. Pain gradually overtook the fear that had taken residence on Ash's face. Dawn's breath hitched when Ash forced his hand onto Pikachu's body.

Nothing. There were no flashes of light or bolts of lightning. Nevertheless, Brock found that the sudden tension in his body refused to leave.

Ash turned Pikachu until the two were face-to-face; the moment for him was oddly reminiscent of the start of their journey after the Spearow attack. Except this time Pikachu's eyes were not open. In fact, if Ash didn't know any better, he could've sworn that his starter was blissfully asleep. The hand on Pikachu's body lowered and lifted slightly — a sign that he was still breathing.

"I think he's okay." Ash exhaled, the air that filled his lungs refreshing and exhilarating him. Brock moved over as he hastily checked the electric starter's vitals — not out of sloppiness but out of fear; Pikachu was a live wire that could be reenergized without warning. Satisfied that Pikachu's vitals were okay, he nodded in affirmation to the trainer.

"Ash, you should probably stay here while we get the other pokémon," Dawn suggested.

"Guys, I told you, I can walk just fine!" Ash countered as he pushed himself to his feet.

"If you're heading out, then I'd imagine you'll want to take Pikachu with you," Brock said. He then pointed to the inert form of the pokémon. "We really shouldn't move him around. Not when he's in that state."

Brock's reasoning stole some of the fire in his eyes, Ash's gaze lowered to the ground before relinquishing a nod. "Right…" Ash sighed, handing them some of his pokéballs.

"We'll bring them back as soon as we can," Dawn replied, taking two of the spheres while Brock grabbed three.

* * *

Brock had found Croagunk and Sudowoodo within the first few minutes of his search. Both of them were unconscious and surrounded by the remains of the forest. Despite the environmental havoc and a few scrapes, his remaining pokémon looked okay. A line of toppled trunks, jagged stumps and even uprooted trees ended where Ash's Turtwig and Gliscor lay still.

Finding Chimchar wasn't difficult considering the blazing trail he had left behind. The scent of burning wood and smoke filled the night air like incense and while it wasn't an awful smell, it wasn't pleasant either. Tiny embers crowned the tips of leafless branches hanging over the trail of scorched earth. Brock had found it hard to believe that the cause of the destruction was a foot tall fire chimp, not a plane crash

As luck would have it, Brock found the fire chimp sprawled out atop a blackened section of earth. Getting closer he could see the flames around Chimchar's body sputtering like dying campfire.

As he approached, the trainer flinched backwards as waves of heat radiating off the open flames washed over him. He quickly gave up trying to find the pokémon's pulse; just placing his hands in the Chimp pokémon's vicinity was like sticking them into an active oven.

Brock aimed the pokéball at the fire starter. He watched as the energy beam connected, Chimchar dematerialized and the beam return to the sphere with its cargo.

"_He'll be safer in there…but what was with that heat? Those flames were just like_…" Brock paused for a moment, as if he were fiddling with the words.

"…_the fires I cook with_…"

Pokémon flames and the normal flames he used to cook had always been treated as something separate in his mind. It was a part of his everyday life; he just accepted it as a fact like how water was wet.

But now, that he was forced to rethink his entire worldview. Brock's arm fell to his side, the pokéball still held firmly in his hands, but now shrunken to the size of a golf ball.

"_Why are the flames different_?" Brock thought. "_Surely it's not a matter of intensity. Anything hot enough to be on fire should be hot enough to cause severe burns_."

Scenes of Ash's Charizard drowning Ash and other opponents in torrents of orange flame flitted through his memory. It was certainly uncomfortable for the targets but they were never in any real danger.

"_But why!?_ _Why do pokémon flames not burn like…real flames?_" Brock's brows were now furrowed in deep thought.

It was then he realized how stupid his choice of words sounded. "_They're both real, but does this make one less real than the other? And it's not just fire; Pikachu's lightning was different too_."

Brock had long lost count of how often Ash and Team Rocket got shocked by one of Pikachu's attacks. What he had witnessed minutes ago was nothing like the lightning Ash's starter had unleashed in all the years he'd been with them. Previously, the victims of the shock would end up covered in soot and stunned but otherwise unharmed. But now, it seemed like the lightning bolts were now capable of causing real injury.

"Team Rocket!" Brock growled. Several years' worth of experiences told him that whenever things went wrong, that persistent trio was involved, if not outright responsible. The woods around him suddenly took on a foreboding tone; every tree and path hid a potential trap.

His way back to camp was slow for he had to carefully probe the ground with a stick like a blind man with a cane. "_This would be right up their alley. Knocking out our pokémon, making Pikachu and the others ripe for the picking_," he thought.

With the end of that thought, the distressing realization that he and Dawn had left Ash and Pikachu vulnerable and alone came to the forefront of his mind. Brock moved briskly through the woods, not running but not walking either. Rushing straight to their camp would blind him to the signs of a pitfall trap or a snare. And Team Rocket preyed off of that kind of recklessness.

It was a surprise when he arrived not to find Team Rocket engaged in their latest plot but Ash wearing his signature hat as well as Pikachu and the camp relatively undisturbed.

"What do you think happened?" Ash asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Brock replied, between fast breaths. "Has Dawn come back yet?"

"No, not yet." Ash then noticed the pokémon breeder's tensed muscles and nervous glances. "Brock, what's wrong?"

"I can't be sure, but I think that Team Rocket might be behind what just happened. It seems like just the kind of thing they would do."

Ash nodded, casting quick glances to the forest around them.

"Dawn!" Brock yelled out, pausing for a moment before calling out again. A faint reply came carried back on the wind. Brock rushed out into the direction of the voice until he turned back and found Ash already shadowing him with Pikachu in his arms. Brock opened his mouth to say that Ash needed to stay, but the look in the young trainer's eyes brooked no argument.

Brock moved silently through the woods. To Ash's credit, he was able to keep up pace with him without too much difficulty. They found the bluenette standing over a large figure nestled into the grass.

"Dawn…are you okay?" Ash asked, squinting through the darkness to try and make out her features. Her reaction to their presence was delayed; her focus anchored onto the figure on the ground.

"I'm fine. I found my other pokémon along with your Buizel and Staravia. They all went back into their poke balls, but when I got to Ambipom and tried returning her…" Dawn lifted and aimed the pokéball in her hand, firing a crimson beam at the purple monkey only to have it dissipate.

"I don't get it," Ash said, taking the pokéball into his hands. He felt for dents in the darkness but its smooth metal shell was unmarred. "Maybe it's broken inside?" He looked over to Brock for some support.

The breeder was already kneeling over the Long Tail pokémon, his only illumination coming from what little moonlight managed to filter through the branches overhead.

The reek of burnt hair was the first thing to reach Brock's nose as he knelt down. From what he could feel, some patches on Ambipom's body were hotter than others. He carefully rolled Ambipom onto her back and probed the skin around her neck.

Seconds painfully ticked by; Brock could feel Dawn and Ash's stares boring into his back. But no matter how deeply he pressed or how long he waited, no pressure passed beneath his fingertips. Brock's body abruptly dropped onto Ambipom, his ear pressed against her chest. Trying to hear her heartbeat became harder and harder as the sound of his own racing heart beat into his ears.

Everything he knew about pokémon anatomy seemed useless in his frantic search for something helpful. Brock lifted off her body, placing his hands onto her chest and pressing down.

"_Was it ten reps or twenty_?" Brock's gaze drifted over to Ambipom's mouth, knowing what he might have to do.

"_Now's not the time to be grossed out…but do I even need to try? How long has it been since her heart stopped, since her brain's been without oxygen_?" he thought.

"Brock," Ash began, only to flinch when the breeder's head abruptly lifted to face him. "Is…there anything we can do?"

Brock lowered his gaze to the ground; the compressions on Ambipom's chest momentarily stopped. "Uh, Y-yeah. Can Dawn and you go back to the clearing and bring back a revive from my bag? You know what it looks like, right?"

Ash nodded furiously, immediately making way towards their encampment until he noted Dawn was still standing in place. "Dawn…"

"I wanna stay." Despite the stern reply there was a fear in her voice, her gaze never leaving her pokémon.

Ash took a step towards her with his arm lifted until Brock's voice cut through the momentary quiet. "Ash, it's fine, she can stay. Just go. And bring my flashlight and a super potion as well."

The trainer nodded once more before breaking into a run. Ash's footfalls faded into the background as Brock continued his chest compressions. A heavy stillness permeated through the woods, broken only by Dawn's tremulous voice.

"Brock…what's wrong with her?" Dawn managed to choke out the words without completely falling apart as she spoke.

The breeder continued pumping on Ambipom's chest as he replied. "I…I can't say for sure, Dawn. At least not right now."

_"That's a lie!"_ Brock's conscience lashed out at him. _"That's a lie and you know it! You know exactly what's wrong! You know exactly what happened! You just don't want to believe it did. You never thought it could happen to us. It was something other people needed to worry about, never us! I wanna be wrong, but if I'm right…how am I gonna break it to them? This won't be Ash's first time facing this. But Celebi, Latios and Lucario were different. This is someone that he's known for so long. And Dawn…she's just started getting her confidence back. This'll—"_

"I'm back!" Ash yelled. Brock immediately ceased the chest compressions as Ash handed him the diamond shaped pill and super potion. Brock set down the super potion and pried open Ambipom's mouth. He quickly dropped the pill into her mouth and waited for it to take effect.

Revives were a potent cocktail of various stimulants that were designed to jumpstart the body contained inside a fast-dissolving capsule. They were pricy but Brock had always made sure to keep a few handy just in case of extreme emergencies.

"Ash, did you bring the flashlight?" Brock asked.

The trainer quickly dug into his pocket and handed it to him. He looked over to Dawn who still stood rooted to the spot he'd left her at. Brock peeled Ambipom's eyelids back and shone a beam of light directly into them. Ash watched him hold the beam there, unsure of what Brock was trying to do but he knew better than to question it.

Seconds passed and the light began to shake in the breeder's hands, moving between her eye and her mouth. Brock quickly grabbed the potion and sprayed it onto Ambipom's fur, keeping the flashlight trained on her eye. A few agonizing seconds later, he clicked the flashlight off and lowered it to his side. A shuddering sigh left him when he leaned back and fell into a sitting position. "Guys," he started. Despite his attempts at keeping his voice neutral, it came out low and dark.

"No!" Dawn's gasp reached his ears through the hand over her mouth. She already knew his response.

"Ambipom is…" Brock trailed off to find a truthful, yet tactful way to break the news. "Gone." Brock stared into the darkness where Ash was standing and debated whether or not he should continue.

His conscience lashed him again. "_They should know. They have a _right_ to know! They'd want to know. They'll ask me sooner or later. Could I lie? Would they even buy it? They're smart. They can put the pieces together. They'll know that I know too, but will they know I did it to help them? They would forgive me…but could _she_ forgive him?_"

Brock lowered his gaze to the starter in Ash's arms. Feeling he should get it out of the way now, he let out a breath and spoke. "One of Pikachu's bolts must've accidentally hit her. The electricity probably stopped Ambipom's heart. By the time you found her…" Brock trailed off as he tried to keep control of his emotions. "She would've already been...it would've been painless, Dawn."

Dawn was unnaturally still as Ash got up and slowly backed away from the body. Despite his efforts to mitigate the damage, Brock couldn't help but feel he'd somehow made it worse. Ash didn't stop backing up until the fabric of his outfit pressed against the bark of a nearby tree. The coordinator slowly lowered herself to the floor, her breathing growing more and more shallow.

A pained hiss rushed through Ash's gritted teeth as he pulled his cap over his eyes with his free arm. He lifted his head, taking deep breaths through his nose.

Dawn was not so quiet with her grief; her cries grew louder with every ragged intake of breath. The sounds tore through them like knives.

In an attempt to prevent his emotions from exploding, Ash allowed himself to release a mix between a cough and cry. He slid down the tree as he desperately tried to shore up his crumbling composure.

The corners of Brock's eyes began to moisten as he pressed the butt of his palm to his forehead. Brock wept silently as he shook his head, grateful for the darkness that shrouded him and let him save face. Machismo aside; he was supposed to be the strong one of their group; the mature one. If they saw him cry it would only make the situation worse, so he had to keep calm. For their sake.

Brock moved away from Ambipom's body and made his way to Dawn, who had now fallen onto her side and curled into a sobbing ball. He placed his hand on her and felt her flinch beneath his palm.

"It's gonna be okay," said a hoarse voice he didn't recognize, until he realized it was his own. "It's gonna be okay." But those words felt hollow; simple platitudes that even he didn't believe. He pulled Dawn off the ground and into his arms, letting her unleash her muffled screams into his shoulder as she wept. She fought him at first, her tiny fists pushing and beating against his chest until they weakened and snaked along his waist as she embraced him back.

At times her cries were so loud that his ears rang; her nails dug through the fabric and into his back. But despite the insults his body had taken, he held on as tightly as he could, telling her over and over again that it would be okay, each time sounding more pathetic than the last.

* * *

"Jessie, wait!" James cried out from the cockpit of the grounded ship. Jessie stomped away quickly, her arms swinging like pendulums as she tried to put as 0much distance between her and the scene of the massacre. James begrudgingly left the aircraft, noting that the whine of the engines hadn't even died down. "Jessie. Stop. Where are you going?"

"I don't know and I don't care anymore!" she ground out between gritted teeth.

James grabbed her wrist only to have it wrenched out of his grip. He then wrapped his arms around her body, halting her advance. The way she thrashed against him, screeching at him to let him go, made him feel as though his touch was poisonous. When her pleas did nothing to release her, she let her volcanic temper take the place of desperate pleas. She stabbed her heel at James's feet and slammed her head back in hopes of connecting with his face.

"Jessie, we need to go back." James carefully dodged the blows. He gritted his teeth but did not slacken his grip as one of Jessie's stomps connected with his booted foot.

"Why should I!?"

"Seviper might still be alive. He's hurt but he and Meowth need help. We need to get them to a pokémon center soon."

James's words must have done the trick. Jessie's body suddenly slumped into his hold, forcing him to slowly lower her to the ground. After a few heartbeats, he removed his arms from her and backed away, the lack of moonlight making it difficult to make her out in the darkness.

"Are we cursed?" She struggled with the words.

James mentally froze. Part of him wanted to immediately tell her they weren't, that the very idea of a curse upon them was outlandish. And yet, the longer he thought about their time together in the last four years, he could see why she would think that. Doubt cradled his every potential reply, leaving him silent for far too many seconds.

"Are we not meant to be happy?" The low, dark tone of her voice was starting to scare him now.

"No, Jess," the bluenette replied weakly. "It's just—"

"—then why is it that every time we try to do something, it literally blows up in our faces? We try and catch the twerp's Pikachu for years, failing each and every time. And now when we wanna do something other than failing we _still _get screwed?" The redhead's voice was a faint and cold whisper. "Just as we're trying to get away from them and climb out of the hole we dug for ourselves, we just get kicked back in!

"It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not _fair_!" Each repeat rose in volume and pitch as it was punctuated by the sound of her fist slamming into the dirt. Eventually, the emotional dam burst and Jessie unleashed a tortured scream, the likes of which James had never heard from her before in all the years of their partnership.

James was about to move in when she stopped and lifted her hand with pained and twitching fingers. Jessie's heavy breaths drowned out the distant drone of Krickitot in the woods. A cloud shifted lazily overhead, letting the light from the moon filter in through the trees. Over the years he had seen Jessie in countless costumes and dozens of hairstyles. She'd been burnt, battered, drenched and rendered nearly bald from some of the attacks she had taken. All of those years of abuse had not prepared him for her current appearance.

Without the consistent and frequent application of her hairspray, the integrity of her coiffure had fallen apart like a house of cards. Long magenta tresses hung over her face, strips of her rosy tinged face peeked through the gaps. Whatever vestige of makeup that had survived their earlier bout was now gone, the last of her mascara staining the tears on her cheeks. But it was the look in her eyes that pierced him like an arrow.

_Pitiful_.

While there was no malice in the word as it came to him, the fact that it was the first word to pop into his mind pained him. Jessie had been many things to him and while at times the things she said or wanted could be considered pitiful; never had he looked at her and associated that word with the entirety of her being.

He'd spent his own fair share with the homeless in his attempts to stay one step ahead of his parents and Jessebelle. Looking at them reminded him that they had started with less than he had, fallen farther in their failures and been on the streets longer than he had been in a home. The unforgiving trials they had gone through were practically etched into their eyes. And now, those same eyes now stared back at him from Jessie's blue pools.

Could he even blame her? If their last failure had cracked her resolve, then the recent events had now shattered it. The Jessie that could pull him out of the deepest of funks; now the one who always knew what to do in the face of defeat was broken.

"_I can't expect her to bounce back from this, at least not now. She's always the one pulling my butt out of the fire, so I should be able to do the same for her._"

"We're not beaten yet, Jessie. We can still get the ship to the nearest pokémon center and have our pokémon healed," he said. His voice was resolute and firm with confidence. How much of it was real and how much of it was a sham for his fellow operative's sake was hard to tell.

The look she gave him — as if she didn't believe or trust a single word he had said — was painful. Rather than take it personally, he decided he would just need to convince her with more than just words. He held his hand out to her and gave her with a weak smile.

"Leave me alone, James. I want to be alone right now. Just go, I'll be fine," she muttered back.

James shook his head and kept smiling, "Leaving you alone right now is the last thing that you need. You've never truly given up on me, so you can't expect me to do that. Don't make me pick you up."

Jessie gave him a look that practically said, "_I'd like to see you try_." Her lips gave the tiniest of movements in what James imagined could be the stirrings of a smile. It wasn't much, but he took it as the first spark; now he just needed to fan the flames.

"I'm not asking you to get back on the ship with me, I'll do that. Just stay by the ship and I'll handle the rest."

Jessie stared at his hand for a long while before tentatively reaching up to grab it. James helped her up, keeping his hand wrapped around hers as they walked back. The aircraft quickly came back into view as they neared the clearing; the sight of it invoked a slight tug of resistance on his arm. James stopped and turned, Jessie's eyes were already filled with uncertainty as a chilly breeze blew through them.

Her gaze turned quizzical as James started to remove his gloves, then incredulous when he started lifting his shirt over his head to reveal the black one underneath.

"I know you don't want to go onto the ship, so you can stay here. It looks like it's gonna be kinda chilly so you can use this if you want." James passed her the shirt he had removed.

Jessie stared down at the article of clothing in her hands for a moment before her looking back to him.

"I know it's not much, but it might help a bit," James added as he put his gloves back on and made his way back towards the aircraft.

* * *

James made his way through the slaughter, bending down to pick up Mime Jr.'s unconscious form. He pressed his ear over the tiny mime's chest and rejoiced at the sound of a steady heartbeat. With a flash of light, he was returned back into his pokéball and pocketed.

He suppressed a wave of nausea as he saw the remains of Jessie's Yanmega. He quickly turned away from Yanmega and Wobbuffet, lest he vomit up what little was in his stomach. Seviper was quickly returned to his pokéball in hopes that he would heal on his own.

James kneeled down to look over Meowth's body. He frowned; he wasn't sure if getting any closer was safe. While the Scratch Cat pokémon appeared to be in a deep slumber, James had just watched him slash through several seat cushions like the tough fabric was no more resistant than tissue paper. His green eyes lifted up to stare at the dent in the metal wall. Meowth looked fine on the outside but an impact of that magnitude could still leave internal injuries.

He inched his hand over, surprised at the way his own hand trembled as it drew closer. It dawned on him that this might be the first time that he feared for his own life because of Meowth. Some part of him kept imagining Meowth coming to and resuming his feral assault. Even as James felt for a pulse along the cat's wrist the goose bumps refused to leave.

"What happened to all of you?" James whispered, his gaze sweeping across the ship's grisly interior. A good part of him was still processing what he was seeing; the magnitude of what had just happened had yet to fully hit him. He couldn't afford to let it hit him now. Or rather, Jessie couldn't afford for him to be hit by it fully now.

Were he to lose control, he knew he would dissolve into a pathetic mess of tears and cries. Which was the complete opposite of what they needed now. To the best of his ability, he suppressed thoughts that might bring him over the edge. He'd deal with those thoughts later.

He moved from Meowth over to his decapitated Carnivine, having left him for last. In his opinion, Carnivine had been the least graphic of their party's deaths. A clear, viscous fluid dribbled out of the stalk of his neck and body.

And yet, the longer he stared down at his former pokémon, the stronger the dull ache in his chest grew. James figured he should've felt worse at Carnivine's passing but the fact remained that their time apart had created some distance. He had forgotten that Carnivine had even existed until they reached his family's summer home in the Sinnoh region. For years, Carnivine had lain inside a poke ball, buried under a collection of bottle caps within a chest.

He certainly had fond memories with Carnivine as a child, having caught him in the Great Marsh near Pastoria. Around that time, Jessebelle had been given an Oddish in an attempt to give the two of them something to talk about and hopefully bring them closer together. Wanting nothing in common with her, James had later asked to have a fire-type, which was how Growlie came into his life and why Carnivine was left in Sinnoh.

While Carnivine was one of few bright moments in his boyhood, it was still but a pinprick in the night sky of his time with Jessebelle and his parents. Having no pokémon on hand at the time, Carnivine had joined the team more out of necessity than nostalgia. There was nothing wrong with Carnivine; he was just as loyal and affectionate as Growlie, but if James were honest with himself, he'd rather not have a living reminder of the past.

"_Out of sight, out of mind_" was one of James's philosophies when it came to his problems.

He had so desperately wanted to bring Growlie with him — not just as a childhood companion but as a member of the team like Mime Jr. — but the Growlithe was a remnant of the old life he so desperately wanted to flee. Just looking at him would be a constant reminder that his parents and Jessebelle were still out there; still hunting him down to bring him back.

"It wasn't your fault. You did nothing wrong," James said into the silence. It was the action of a madman, talking to Carnivine's corpse. But he felt that he needed to say this or it would eat at him till the end of his days.

"You were…are, my best friend. I hope you knew that. I hope you knew I loved you." His view of the world began to shimmer more and more with every word. "I don't think I ever said that to you, and if I did it wasn't nearly enough." It began to dawn on him that he hadn't just lost a pokémon or a comrade. He had lost his childhood friend; he had lost a family member.

James took a shaky breath as he knelt down and pulled off his glove. The surface of Carnivine's head was smooth and cold, though he figured it had never been all that warm before. He tried to replicate the sound of Carnivine's voice in his mind, the way he looked at him when he gave him one of those big toothy grins. As soon as the images came into view, they faded away, leaving behind dim phantoms of the original memory. James let the tears fall freely now, feeling them slide down his cheeks and hang from his chin.

"I just want to say…thanks." James suppressed a sob so he could make it through his eulogy. "For everything you did for me. I wish…I wish I could pay you back, all the pain you've gone through for my sake. Just like before, I'm going to need you to wait for me. I can't promise we'll see each other soon but Growlie and I will meet up with you wherever you are…" James let his tears fall freely as he spoke. "And when you see me, you can nibble on my head again."

* * *

A gloved fist slammed against the aircraft's communication controls. James moved his hand away, noting the lack of any dent in the material — not that it mattered. Just underneath where his fist had landed was a series of holes from his Carnivine's Bullet Seed, ruining the electronics that would have let the pilot phone in their situation to command.

Their own comlink was less than helpful; a machine answered him due to all the other lines being busy at the moment. It led him in circles, asking him if he was in one kind of situation or another. None of them really seemed applicable and even those that did apply ended up leading him into another session of pointless questions answered by the press of one or two.

James slumped into the — thankfully, clean — copilot seat. Aside from the blood and gore that blanketed half of the flight deck, most of the aircraft appeared intact. The altimeter, artificial horizon and GPS had been left undamaged. If the fuel gauge could be trusted, there was a good chance they could make it to Canalave and even a little further. A glance at the pilot's bloodied seat was a reminder that there were other, more pressing matters.

Mime Jr. and Seviper were no longer a part of that problem, having been returned to their respective pokéballs. Burying Carnivine next came to mind; the question then quickly became where to bury him? He would've liked to have done so by his family's summer home or the Great Marsh. But he wasn't sure if he had the time or fuel to do so.

"_Could I bury him here? In some nameless part of the woods? Would I even find this place again? Where would I even bury him in Canalave?_" Being always on the move had its downsides; this had been one of the ones that that James had preferred not to think about.

His friend aside, what would be done for Jessie's teammates? As much as she complained about the Patient pokémon, she really did care about Wobbuffet. He'd been a part of the team for years and James had gotten used to hearing him chime in at the end of their motto; so much so that doing it without his contribution sounded off. His death would strike Jessie _hard_…if it already hadn't. Though he wasn't sure he could say the same about Yanmega. Being the newest member of the team, she had only been with them for a short period of time.

Meowth was where things started getting complicated.

Unlike most Team Rocket field agent teams that had a pokémon mascot, Meowth was not their pokémon in the sense of them being his trainers. For all intents and purposes, he was another Team Rocket operative, with the attendant rights and responsibilities. He could — and often did — place orders for whatever materiel they needed to pull off their latest scheme. Nearly all the mechas they had requested were customized with controls specifically designed to fit Meowth's physique. In fact, he had even shown some aptitude in engineering as they had previously used several gadgets that were of his own original design.

"_Meowth might be safer in a pokéball, but putting him into one would mean I would need to catch him with one_." James wasn't sure how he felt about that. It had been years since their initial meeting that the thought had even crossed his mind, if ever so briefly. "_How would Meowth feel about that? I could just release him once this is all over. Maybe I'm overthinking it_."

James mentally switched the roles of trainer and pokémon. He frowned as he took the thought experiment to its logical — and distasteful — conclusion. To be captured — even if eventually released — meant that he was owned and possessed like an object. The mental experiment had opened his eyes to a whole new perspective. The way he saw their job and how their world functioned was changing before his eyes.

Meowth wasn't the brightest pokémon around but he was definitely smarter than average. Even then, the average pokémon was fairly intelligent by human standards. He had met people that were dumber than pokémon. Conversely, he was almost certain that there were pokémon smarter than he could ever hope to be.

The capacity for them to be just as smart as people was there but for whatever reason they weren't being given that chance. If that was the case, then it wasn't just the fact that they were stealing pokémon from other people that was starting to bother him. It was the fact that the rest of the world was taking intelligent creatures and—

"Team Rocket!"

James felt the blood drain from his face. The cold hand of dread wrapped around his spine and poured ice into his veins. The effect was brief as the dismay gave way to rage. James stormed out of the cockpit and out of the aircraft, his lips fixed into a snarl.

"_It…it can't be. No, nonononono! NO! Anyone but them!_" James seethed quietly until the three shadowed figures came into view. He didn't even have to peer through the darkness to know who it was.

"_Of course it's them. It's always them. How could it be anything but them? Even when we're trying to leave them alone they get in the way_." Some part of him found the humor in the situation because the scowl morphed into a smile.

Jessie had long since migrated over to the ship, leaning against it as she waited for James to finish whatever he was doing inside. Now she worried that she had let him take on too much on his own. A laugh started in the back of his throat, working its way past his lips despite his best efforts to hold it in. It was a frustrated and tired laugh at first before it bordered onto something hysterical.

"What did you do!?" one of the figures screamed. He recognized the voice as belonging to the twerp with the Pikachu.

The manic lilt in James's voice dissolved with the accusation. "We haven't done anything to you!" James roared back with a rage that Jessie rarely ever saw from him.

"Liar!" the twerpette screeched at them with equal amounts of loathing.

"Every time something bad happens, you guys are always involved in some way," the oldest twerp added. Despite the neutral and calm voice he spoke with, there was a barely restrained rage and utter contempt for them in his voice.

James, Jessie and Meowth had done practically everything possible to them over the years; they had stolen from them, trapped them, lied to them, even attacked their families, but yet nothing had inspired the hate that radiated from them now.

"If you must know, we were trying to get away from you. We were tired of having our plans foiled; tired of being electrocuted, and most of all we were tired of being blasted off. We were done with you and your Pikachu." James turned his nose up, returning the contemptuous tone.

The Twerp Trio was quiet for a moment, glaring at them until the oldest one finally broke the silence.

"Why should we even trust you or anything you say?"

"We don't care if you trust us. We don't care what you think we did. All we wanted was to never see you and your Pikachu again for as long as we lived. We were on our way out of here when our pokémon started attacking everything. Now three of our pokémon are dead." James's voice began to crack as he said the words; the aura of malice from the twerps was beginning to dissipate.

"Meowth's hurt." There was pain in his voice now. "We want to get him to a pokémon center and make sure he's going to be all right." Jessie watched her partner's voice peter out with the slump of his arms; years of fatigue now showed on his face. Out of the three, James was the one who was the most honest with his feelings. While she wasn't sure why he was telling the twerps so much, it seemed to have the desired effect.

Jessie watched the twerps join together with their backs to them, quick and unintelligible whispers reaching her ears. They argued for a while, throwing them cautious glances ever few seconds. James made his way over to her and squatted down to her level.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Jessie nodded and sighed. "Would you believe I almost started doing the motto when the twerps found me?"

James gave a weak smile, noting that she had taken to wearing his shirt over hers. "Old habits are hard to break."

"When you said three pokémon…" Jessie let the question hang in the air over them as James mulled over how to phrase his next words.

"Yanmega and Carnivine…there was no way to save them."

Jessie closed her eyes as she bowed her head. "I'm sorry about Carnivine. I know it must've been hard for…are you okay?"

"I'll be all okay." Jessie noticed his word choice, but didn't press any further.

"Wobbuffet?" she asked.

James exhaled through his nose. "Since none of the seeds hit his brain I figured he'd be okay but I don't know Wobbuffet's anatomy that well and I don't know if any of his vitals were hit. He lost a lot of blood. I could've tried to patch him up to try and stop the bleeding but with the amount he's lost, by the time we reached a pokémon center, I don't know if they would've been able to do anything."

Jessie drew her knees up to her chin and buried her face in the gap between them. Strangled gasps escaped as she tried to keep her composure.

He was about to touch her shoulder with his hand until someone called out his name. The bluenette looked up and found that the squinty-eyed twerp had approached them.

"I have some medical knowledge and supplies that might help some of your pokémon. If you let me take a look at them—"

"—Can you save Wobbuffet?" Jessie quickly interjected, her eyes brimming with tears and hope.

"I'll see what I can do," Brock said softly before following James as they made their way around the ship. Once they had made their way to the other side of the craft, James stopped and faced the breeder.

"Inside is really…" James looked to the ground, struggling to find an appropriate word that could fully encapsulate the carnage inside. When the grass gave him no answers, he sighed. "Bad," he lamely finished. It was an almost comedic understatement but what else could he say?

"James, level with me. Did you know that any of this was going to happen?" Brock asked.

The Rocket member shook his head. "If we had known anything like this was going to happen, we would've done things differently. The pilot who was supposed to take us to Canalave was killed when our pokémon went crazy. We might not be our boss's favorite field agents; but I'd like to think he'd of warned our pilot."

"Okay," Brock replied, the answer seeming to satisfy him for the moment. He was about to go in when James stopped him once more.

"After everything we've done to you, why would you help us?" the field agent asked.

"I'm not so much helping you as I'm helping your pokémon. If I can keep one more pokémon from dying tonight…"

"What happened to us…did you and the twerps?"

Brock's head ever so slightly nodded. "Pikachu...he lost control and started shocking everything around him. We barely got away but we had to leave our pokémon behind. When we came back, the rest of our pokémon are fine, but Dawn's Ambipom...the lightning must've hit her and...this is the first time Dawn's ever lost a pokémon."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Brock faced at him for a moment and James could tell that their history and his sincere apology battled in his mind. Eventually the breeder said nothing back and made his way into the aircraft's interior.

Brock's initial reaction to the ship's interior was not unexpected. James watched him run out immediately and retch onto the grass a few meters from the aircraft. He couldn't blame him considering he had nearly done the same; the only difference was that he'd had the better part of an hour to grow somewhat numb to the sight of it. Brock hadn't been given that luxury; the sight and smell had hit him all at once like blows of an enraged Primeape. Whatever they had gone through hadn't nearly been as gruesome as the two field agents' experience.

It took some time for Brock to come back to the craft and work through his nausea. James tried to help, dragging the bodies of Carnivine and the pilot out of the plane. In the end, James felt his efforts to be worse than useless as the pilot's body left a wet crimson streak wherever it was hauled. Removing Yanmega from the aircraft would have required him to literally scrape her remains off the bulkheads and floor.

Little by little, Brock was able to acclimate himself to the scene and — to James's great surprise and relief — determined that Wobbuffet was still alive. Using a super potion to seal the wounds and stabilize his condition, James was able to return him back into his pokéball to heal. There was no guarantee that Wobbuffet's blue skin would heal unmarred. Or if he'd ever be able to fight again. But James knew that Jessie wouldn't care; she would simply be relieved to know that he would live to see another day.

Several hours passed as he and Brock worked into the night. Despite the hits Meowth and Seviper had taken, Brock assured him that they would be okay. After talking it over with Jessie, they agreed to offer the twerps a ride to Hearthome City where they could all get their pokémon some medical attention.

The twerps were reluctant at first until Jessie reminded them of the times that they had worked together against a common enemy or obstacle. This — and the promise to not try stealing their pokémon — didn't suddenly remove years of accumulated bad blood between them but in the end, they ultimately accepted their offer.

It was then that James's comlink began to beep, indicating an incoming call. They had been talking as it rang faintly in background. It wasn't until all of them stopped talking that they noticed the noise and looked around to see where it was coming from. Without a word, James ran off with the rest following him. As if by unspoken agreement, they stopped at the open hatch of the tilt-rotor aircraft.

A full minute passed as they waited for him; the slowness of his footsteps as he made his way back to them seemed to be an ill omen. They were about to ask who had contacted him. Instead of saying anything, he gestured for them to be quiet and held out the comlink, its tinny voice deafening in the early morning air.

"_This is your leader, Giovanni. I am issuing a nationwide recall of all our members. Effective immediately, all Rocket agents and scientists are to suspend all current projects and return to Kanto. I repeat. This is your leader Giovanni. I am issuing a—"_


	3. Fight Or Flight

**A big thanks to Zarrelion for his part on this chapter. I bounced a lot of ideas of him as to what to do with this chapter and a good chunk of this is all thanks to his help. **

* * *

**August 16**

* * *

There had been plenty of times in the past where a situation had forced him, Jessie, and Meowth to join forces with the twerps. Or at least exist in same room together and not be at each other's throats. James would've called the last few hours an extended awkward silence.

Save for the fact that the wind whistled loudly through the holes in the fuselage and the high pitched whine of the rotor blades from outside.

Thankfully, the rush of wind had forced most of gory air out from the craft. Toilet paper from Giovanni's personal bathroom had been used to wipe and clean off most of the blood and viscera scattered throughout the ship and make it at least temporarily habitable. Due to the damage the craft had taken, they kept their altitude at just under a kilometer.

A few hours had passed without anyone uttering a single word. Jessie sat by herself in the copilot's chair as she monitored the autopilot. James figured his partner needed the time alone to collect her thoughts and regain some of her composure.

There wasn't much privacy for the twerps on their end of the craft. Not that it looked like they needed it. Each of them seemed to be caught up in their own little world. The twerpette lay along the left side of the aircraft atop an inflatable yellow dinghy they had found and inflated as an impromptu bed. She would sniffle and whimper occasionally but beyond that, she was inert. Whether she had gotten any sleep was anyone's guess.

No one had bothered to ask if she had or urge her to try.

The older twerp sat at the center on one of the few chairs that hadn't been eviscerated by claws or riddled with holes. His elbows rested on his knees, fingers intertwined and pressed against his forehead. Meowth and Pikachu rested on the seats next to him. The two pokémon breathed softly as they lay in blissful slumber.

Last was the twerp they had chased for several years. He occupied the right of the ship, staring through a blown-out window. One hand was on his prized cap, lest the wind blow it off his head. His eyes held a somber stare that sparked with hope whenever his gaze flitted over to the chair that held his starter.

James watched the hope in the twerp's eyes die a dozen times over. He knew the twerp wanted to be there the moment his starter awoke. While James considered the boy's efforts childish, he couldn't help but fall into the same cycle himself as he checked on Meowth.

For everyone aboard the tilt-rotor aircraft, there was no choice but to wait until they reached their destination. James had entered the coordinates for Twinleaf town and let the autopilot handle the rest. The system told him he would need to refuel at Sinnoh's coast if they were to make the flight to Kanto safely. If everything went according to plan, they would be able to make the entire trip in half a day. But James's gut instincts, honed by his years as a Team Rocket operative, told him that things never went as smoothly as hoped.

Jessie had often told people to prepare for trouble but there were some things that no amount of preparation or contingency plans could prepare someone for. Their earlier plan had been to drop off the twerps at Hearthome City as thanks for checking on their pokémon and saving Wobbuffet. He and Jessie doubted they could ever have left the twerps on good terms, but this time, they left on, if not entirely good, then at least neutral terms.

Hearthome was only a slight detour from their route towards the Coronet mountain range. Yet the twerps were still with them. As bad as he and Jessie tried to make themselves out to be, there was no way they could've lived with themselves if they had left the twerps at Hearthome in the state it was in.

* * *

**A few hours earlier…**

The city had looked fine from a distance, but it wasn't until they flew closer that they found their concerns of where to land the aircraft rapidly became moot. People ran through the city streets with purple waves hot on their heels. Those that couldn't run fast enough drowned beneath the lavender tide. Glass from some of the taller buildings next to them shattered as people smashed windows and leapt out in a desperate attempt to evade the slimy purple hands that scrabbled at the empty air in hopes of seizing a victim.

Jessie and James watched on in horror as bodies rained down from the buildings, spattering the sidewalk with a crimson spray amidst sickening thuds. Towering wisps of steam rose from the bubbling purple puddles scattered across the city. Each mound was another body that had been caught by the purple waves. Screams quickly filled the air and fought for dominance over the drone of their ship's rotor blades.

Brock tore his gaze from the window only to notice too late that Dawn had been watching the same thing. He grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to pull her away from the windows. She resisted at first until her strength gave away completely and she stumbled into Brock's hold. The trainer was deathly pale at first, but then a slight greenish tinge took over her face. Brock watched her cheeks swell before she clamped a hand over her mouth bolted for the bathroom at the back of the plane.

He followed her and found her doubled over the toilet, gripping the rim of the bowl like it was her only anchor to stability. He pulled her hair back and braced himself for the smell as she retched violently into the bowl. James was suddenly grateful they'd been given one of Giovanni's personal escort ships. Had it been built for anyone lower than admin level, a bathroom or the autopilot would not have been installed.

Jessie suppressed a wave of nausea that rose up her throat, something she imagined everyone else had been doing at the sound of Dawn's heaves. Ash remained rooted to his spot by the window. One hand was clutched into a shaking fist while another hand aimed his pokédex at the scene below.

"_Muk, the Sludge pokémon. A single drop from their body can contaminate an entire pool. Toxins seeping from their bodies can instantly kill plants and trees_," Dexter recited neutrally.

"It…It can't be," Ash mumbled as he backed away from the window.

"Uh, James," Jessie said, shaking his arm and pointing out the window ahead of them. The bluenette turned his head and found what his partner was staring at. Atop the building ahead of them was one of the aforementioned Muk, opening its slimy maw until it rivaled the size of a Golbat's own cavernous mouth. A nauseating gargling sound emanated from the back of its throat for a few seconds before an enormous blob of sludge was vomited at them.

Jessie's instincts kicked in before her partner's did. She grabbed the controls to the aircraft. The Sludge Bomb missed them by a few inches as the aircraft swerved out of the way at the last second. James's hand met Jessie's own as he took the controls and shifted them forward, narrowly missing a nearby building they would've smashed into if they had kept moving in the same direction.

"James, we need to get out of here now!" Jessie shouted.

"No need to tell me twice," James replied stiffly as he opened the throttle on the engines to full and made for the fastest route out of the city.

In less than a minute the outer fringes of the forest came back into view and the city slipped into the horizon behind them. James throttled back the engines, hoping the desperate sprint hadn't cost them too much fuel.

"Wait!" Ash's voice rang through the cockpit. Standing in the doorway was the young trainer, his face set in a resolute mask. "Where are you going? We need to go back."

The look Jessie gave him was fierce enough to melt the hide off a Steelix.

"Are you blind, twerp!? Didn't you see what was happening back there!? How do you expect us to stay there!?" Jessie barked. Whatever vestige of patience she had left for the boy disintegrated at his petulant cry.

"They need our help." Ash's stance was defiant beneath her fiery scrutiny.

"And how were you planning to help those people? Were you going to fight those Muk with your pokémon? Oh, wait. Your pokémon are out cold! Just like ours. How would we be any different from the people back there!?"

"We could've found a way to help them," Ash insisted. Despite his resolute tone, Jessie could tell that her logic hammered away at his resolve like the surf against the dunes. Soon, the young trainer was grasping at straws. "We could've brought them onto the ship. We could've—" Ash rambled on, glancing at different spots on the floor as if they held more suggestions.

"We can't fit that entire city on this ship." Jessie's voice lost its razor-edged fury but still kept that cold, keen edge of reality. "Even going down puts us and our ship in danger of getting attacked and grounded. Then we'd be stuck in that city like all of those people. We'd be dead; the people we tried to save would've still died. In the end, no one gets saved."

"That's…" Ash gritted his teeth, doing his best to keep himself from deflating.

"She's right, Ash." Another — familiar, male voice — joined Jessie in dissuading Ash from his foolish rescue plan.

The raven-haired trainer whirled around to find Brock standing behind him.

"Wha…Brock, she…" Ash trailed off.

"Ash, much as I never thought I'd say this, Team Rocket is right. In our state, we can't help anyone. We need to let someone like Officer Jenny, the police or heck even the army handle something this bad. I know you want to help but this is way out of our leagues. All we can do is let the right people know what's happening and where so they can deal with it."

"I want to go home." Dawn spoke up from behind them, catching everyone off guard.

Ash and Brock turned to face her, surprised that she could look any more haggard than she already had before.

"I want to go home." She uttered each word carefully with a sense of finality as she looked into their eyes.

Brock turned around and faced Jessie. "Do you think you could drop us off there instead?" Jessie eyed each of them for a few seconds until James's voice sounded from the cockpit.

"It's on the way to Canalave so it's okay."

"…You heard him," Jessie said as she reentered the cockpit and manually slid the door shut behind her.

"Thank you," Dawn whispered back softly as she collapsed into one of the few intact chairs. Brock rummaged through his backpack for a bottle of water and handed it to her, telling her she needed to replenish her fluids. Dawn took it after he uncapped it for her. She winced with each swallow.

"It tastes weird," she muttered as she handed the bottle back with half its contents remaining. Brock checked the bottle for a few seconds before he handed it back.

"The water's normal, it's just the taste in your mouth that makes it weird. Let me see if I can find some ju—"

"—its fine, Brock. I'm just…tired," Dawn replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You guys didn't get much sleep last night so I'm not surprised. Let me see if I can throw something together for you."

"What about you?"

Brock raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"Aren't you tired?"

Brock tried chuckling without trying to make it sound too forced. "When you have as many siblings as I do, you learn to power through some nights. I'll catch up on my sleep later; I've had some practice at it. You haven't."

Dawn said nothing in response and kept her gaze fixed to the floor at her feet. Brock was about to ask Ash for some help until he saw the look on his face. Years of traveling with him had taught him to recognize when Ash was beating himself up on the inside. He wanted to tell him that what was happening to those people wasn't his fault.

But in his state, he might as well be deaf.

Ash was a boy of action and the fact that he could do nothing for those people was eating at him. Brock could try and reason it out with him, but if the logic came from an outside source some part of Ash would reject it. Ash would need to come to the same conclusion on his own. It would be hard for him as it went entirely against who he was as a person. Town after town, day after day, Ash would always stop to help anyone he came across that was in need. He would do his best to fix their problems, usually asking nothing in return.

Ash's optimism and selfless nature were just some of the things that Brock admired about him. Admittedly, Brock had expected the years to weather away the boy's good nature, darken his outlook on the world. In general, Brock expected Ash to suffer the same fate that befell his own father and so many others. Yet somehow Ash managed to surprise him by never letting the rougher patches of his journey bring him down. His resolve to help people had yet to waver. But now the downsides of being so virtuous had appeared.

Brock could only hope that it didn't become a curse.

* * *

**Present **

The world beyond the window seemed pristine and calm despite the horrors they had witnessed earlier. It made James wonder what other nightmares were in store for them.

"Hey?" Jessie's voice was faint in the rush of the wind through the glass, but loud enough to pierce through his train of thought and grab his attention.

James turned to face her, the goggles and oxygen mask on his face giving him a rather Beedrill-esque appearance. Even though the air was perfectly breathable, the goggles and mask kept the fierce wind from ramming into his eyes and down his throat. At some point while he'd been flying the ship, Jessie had tied her hair back into a ponytail.

"How are you holding up?" She had to shout to make herself heard over the roaring wind.

"I'm holding up, but…that city." James's voice, staticky and slightly distorted, came through the mask's mic.

"I know," she quickly added, as if not mentioning the event made it less real.

"It's just. What we just saw…"

"It's crazy."

"Jess, are we…_absolutely_ sure Team Rocket doesn't have anything to do with this?" James asked.

It wasn't an entirely dumb statement considering how long they had been part of the organization. The duo was rather low on the Team Rocket hierarchy and there were a lot of things within the organization that were need-to-know basis. And they were often lumped with those who didn't need to know. James understood the practicality of the entire protocol as it meant that a captured operative could only reveal so much, even under duress. But it still irked him to be left so in the dark that they might as well have been blind.

There were plenty of times where no one had given them a heads-up as to the activities of other field agents in the area. A simple briefing would have allowed them to stay out of the way and not interfere with the results or even assist with the scheme. No one had given them a heads-up about Dr. Namba's Rage Crowns in the Orange Islands. No one had told them that Butch and Cassidy were planning on using a Drowzee to mind control all nearby pokémon to do their bidding. Had they known they would've steered clear of the area and avoided having Meowth succumb to the mind control.

"This isn't the boss's style," Jessie finally answered, breaking the silence. "He's always stressing about how we have to keep a low profile whenever we're working in the field or on a project. That way we can move under the radar. Having an entire city and its people offed would bring too much attention to the organization."

"What about the Lake of Rage?"

"That's one incident."

"That we know of!" James snapped back. "Team Rocket is all over Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and who knows where else! There could be tons of things like this going on and we'd never know about it!" James struggled to keep his voice just under a yell and not alert the twerps.

"James, we can argue about maybes and what-ifs for hours, but we aren't going to get us any closer to the truth until we get back to the base."

"Jess, just humor me then. What would you do if Team Rocket was actually responsible for what we just saw?"

Jessie was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the landscape that rolled beneath them. "I don't know, James. I don't know what I'd do. I want to think that my mom didn't join an organization that would do something like this. We steal pokémon, sure, but not something like this. Just…let me think about it, 'kay?"

James said nothing, turning to face the same terrain his partner stared at and seeing the crest of Mount Coronet peek out from the edge of the horizon.

* * *

Brock jolted back into consciousness and felt immediately estranged by his surroundings, or at least he did until the memories started rushing back into his mind. Each image that flitted through his mind weighed more and more on him until they crushed whatever vestige of relief his rest had brought him.

"I really watched people die…I actually watched pokémon kill people," he muttered.

What he had seen was real, no matter how much he wished it wasn't. The proof was all around him. It was in the tufts of fluff that bled out of the seat cushions. In the dents in the steel. And most tellingly, in the pink stains on the floor.

The wind screaming through the holes in the walls was another sharp reminder of what he had just seen. The ignorance of the world's events that came with his dreamless sleep had now made him wonder why he even bothered to wake up in the first place.

"_You know why. They need you_." The parenting part of his mind was quick to remind him.

Brock looked about the room, wondering how long he'd been out. From the looks of it, Dawn was still resting on her side and curled into a ball atop the inflatable dinghy. Brock couldn't blame her for wanting to go home.

Though he hoped Ambipom's death and the gruesome scenes of the Muk attack wouldn't leave lasting scars, he knew that was unlikely. The coordinator simply lay still atop her impromptu bed. Whether she was actually asleep, feigning sleep or even alive was hard to tell in her state. Only the gentle rise and fall of her chest from her even breathing hinted that she was alive.

"When I woke up…everything that we saw…when she wakes up…every second I can keep her from going through what I just did is another second she doesn't have to suffer," Brock muttered as he watched the sleeping girl.

Ash had left his spot by the window and now sat on the floor between the rows of seats so that his gaze would be level with the seat that held Pikachu. His forehead rested on the edge of the seat, tiny snores brushed over his hat which now lay atop his lap.

"_I guess we must have all been really tired if we were able to sleep in these conditions_," Brock thought as he carefully lifted himself off the chair. He moved quietly through the ship and eventually found himself standing before the door to the cockpit. Brock eyed the holes in the metal; James had told him that they had been made by Carnivine's Bullet Seed.

"If even the weak moves are like this…" Brock shook his head and debated whether or not to open the door himself or knock. After a few seconds he settled for the former and slid the door open a crack. A blast of air immediately rushed through the gap. He widened the opening more, just enough to slip in and closed the door behind him. It didn't take long for Brock to learn that their half of the ship was actually quieter than James and Jessie's half.

Jessie had pulled her legs in beneath her and was asleep in the cramped hallway, using an inflated life vest as an _ad hoc_ pillow. James's face was hidden behind a pair of goggles and an oxygen mask but he was still sitting upright. A simple tap to his shoulder made him flinch until he turned and faced Brock. Brock stepped back to let James get up, noticing the pink hue on the back of his white pants from where he'd sat.

"Everything okay?" James asked as he removed the oxygen mask and goggles from his face.

"In a way. I managed to doze off and I wanted to know how long I'd been out," Brock replied.

"Well, we just passed Mount Coronet if that says anything."

"How'd you manage that? I thought we had to stay below one kilometer."

"I took control of the ship and was able to find a gap between the mountains. Believe it or not, the path I took is actually the same place where we tried to take that Probopass from one of the twerps you were with."

Alan and his Probopass immediately came to Brock's mind, evoking a small smile.

"_Funny how some things work out_," the breeder thought to himself and felt himself smile, only to have it disappear when he wondered where the boy was now and whether he was dealing with the same things that they were.

"How long until we get to Twinleaf?" Brock asked, watching James to sit back into the pilot's seat, and look at the screens around him as he began to put his oxygen mask on.

"Not too much longer," he replied. "GPS says we're coming up on Oreburgh in a min—" the end to his statement never came as his eyes widened and he slammed his hands onto the controls, sending the aircraft swerving to the right. The sudden change in direction flung Brock into Jessie who had already started to awaken. Jessie was about to scream at her partner until a golden column of energy eclipsed their view of the earth and sky to the left of the ship.

The Hyper Beam dissipated into motes of light only for another one to take its place as James sent the ship into a dive. Brock's heart was in his throat, threatening to explode as his hands frantically scrabbled for something stable to hold onto until he eventually settled for the edge of the chair. Unfortunately, that meant the only other available handhold was his back, which Jessie clung onto for dear life. James muttered profanities as he tried to pilot the craft with one hand and don his goggles and oxygen mask with the other. A screeching roar filled the air. One that each of them recognized on some primal level.

"You've got to be kidding me!" was James's staticky yell behind his oxygen mask. The dread of what they were facing stole the warmth from their blood and chilled them right to the bone.

"Of all the pokémon we had to come across," Jessie growled. She made her way towards the door and wrenched it open. Ash was holding Pikachu in one arm while another gripped the arm of a seat for dear life. Dawn was next to him and doing the same, holding Meowth in her free arm.

"What's going on!?" Dawn screamed. Her eyes widened when the world beyond the windows disappeared beneath a river of golden energy.

"It's an Aerodactyl," Ash shakily replied without an ounce of doubt in his voice, his close encounters with that particular pokémon had made it impossible to forget the sound of its cry.

"Hold on!" Brock yelled from the cockpit's doorway before ducking back inside. Jessie was almost afraid of asking why they would need to when she felt the g-forces pulling at her body as the ship began to accelerate. The fuselage rattled and groaned; the combined noise of the thrusters and the rotor blades reached an earsplitting pitch, drowning out Dawn and Jessie's screams.

Brock appeared once more in the doorway, his expression dark before he spoke again.

"Brace yourselves, we're going down."

* * *

**Be sure to check out Poké Wars: A hard Road to Follow. I know most you might find this redux of the Subsistence annoying but if you're looking to know what you can expect when I make it back to the Convalescence look no further than Hiiro's journey.**


	4. Knock Back To the Stone Age

**So...I'm married now, and my honeymoon is over. Work looks like its starting to slow down, enough to where I have enough time to actually get some chapter work done. It's a little out of my comfort zone but I decided to do something different for this next segment. I made it more to have an explanation as to how a certain character shows up in the next chapter without it looking like a random appearence. **

**In other exciting news, Senriyu has released another chapter for the divergence which I absolutely love in the way that it ties up a lot of loose ends that weren't gone into before. Agent of Chaos 112 will also be releasing another chapter for his story, The Remembrance, so I urge you guys to check those out if you wanna feed your hunger for poke wars and I'm sure they'd love to get some feedback and reviews for their work. Speaking of reviews, my last few chapters have been pretty short on those. I figure it's due to the time gap between each release of the each chapter where people either forget that this story exists or they simply don't care for how the other characters are doing. **

**I've decided to put some of my other stories on hold and focus my efforts on Ash's group, who seems to be the more popular story of the four groups that I focus on. This will be mainly done to catch them up where everyone else is in terms of the days after the undampening. Feel free to let me know your thoughts on this. **

**As always Zarrelion has been instrumental in this chapter. **

* * *

**1:24 PM**

He's halfway up the steps when the noise reaches his ears. His body seizes up as he tries to hold as still as possible and home in on the sound that now competes with the thunderous beat of his own heart.

The drone grows louder, enough for him to recognize it and feel his heart defy all logic when it beats even louder in his chest. By the sheer volume, he figures it's close…closer than anything of its kind has any business being near buildings. What was once a faintly audible buzz now becomes a bone-jarring hum that resonates through the building.

One heartbeat passes, then a second. It's on the third when the sound starts emanating from the opposite side of the room. Roark makes the last few steps up the stairway and cautiously edges towards the window. His will is then suddenly tested when the all too familiar screech of an Aerodactyl fills the air. Nerve endings flare as every brain cell in his head screams at him to run.

But his exhaustion and curiosity ultimately win when he doesn't immediately retreat from the window.

Columns of orange energy bisect the sky above Oreburgh, each one making him wince. They're bigger than he remembers them being. Blasts now long enough to devastate a city block and wide enough to obliterate any of Oreburgh's buildings. At first Roark can't help but feel they're being fired randomly. That is until he notices that there's a purpose to this grand display of power.

Every burst seems to just barely miss the aircraft he heard earlier; the pause between each blast giving the pilot just enough time to guess the trajectory of the next attack and barely dodge it. He doesn't recognize the unusual jet-helicopter hybrid. Roark attributes his inability to identify the craft to his lack of interest in aviation. The hundreds of meters between them might also be a factor.

"Maybe the national guard is still..." Roark considers for a moment as the aircraft makes a wide turn, coasting along the city's outskirts.

"_They should've sent more than just one plane_," the miner thinks bitterly, knowing it's only a matter of time before the Aerodactyl either outwits its target, pilot miscalculation or simple sluggishness on the pilot's end finishes their aerial dance. He looks on with the same morbid fascination of watching a tunnel collapse.

A few seconds pass without the appearance of another orange beam, leaving Roark to wonder if the Aerodactyl decided to pursue easier prey. His question is quickly answered when a ring of white light forms around the prehistoric pokémon's body, a move that Roark is all too familiar with — Stone Edge.

Orbs of light coalesce along the ring, forming into shards of stone that orbit the creature as it flies. The pilot — expecting a searing column of orange light — jukes sharply…only to steer the craft right into the hail of lithic flechettes.

It's then that something black and yellow bursts from the side of the aircraft, almost confirming Roark's dismal expectations, at least until a lightning bolt arcs out and strikes the Aerodactyl. The flying fossil's body arches back, whatever screams it would've released into the air are locked in its throat by the electrical blast. Roark blinks, and then it's over. The moment his lids lift back up the Aerodactyl is already plummeting towards the ground, its blackened body trailing smoke.

There's no sound to mark the landing as the corpse disappears behind the row of houses. Neither the ground, nor the walls give the slightest tremble from the impact or give any hint that the body has crunched against the asphalt. The world continues to spin; the events on its surface are but meaningless trivia in the face of its endless turns. A part of Roark can't register what's happened quite yet.

His eyes shift up to the sky, still expecting the flying fossil to still be there, but only blue and open skies greet him. The aircraft flies back into view, shadowed by the black and yellow figure that unleashed the lightning bolt. He watches them disappear beyond the window, but not before seeing the craft draw closer and closer to the ground to the east of him.

A chorus of hisses and snarls reach Roark's ears from the streets below. He ducks back beneath the window and presses himself against the wall, hoping he's small and insignificant enough to escape the universe's notice. He's a bundle of nerves and involuntary shivers, sliding slowly down the wall until he reaches the tiled floor. The sweat that soaks his black undershirt has cooled, clinging to his back and adding another bout of shivers up his already trembling body. The growls grow fainter until he's left in the company of silence once more.

With all the tenderness of a raging semi-truck the exhaustion hits him all at once. It isn't until he's on the ground that it begins to dawn on him that it's the first time in twelve hours he's been allowed to sit down and rest.

He gingerly lifts the miner's helmet off his head and places it on his lap, his twitching finger tracing the thin crack snaking across the glass surface of the mounted light. With a shaky hand, his fingers slip through his wet hair, stopping to rest at the back of his head.

It's as if a switch is located there because the images of the slaughter flit in and out of his vision; the taste of bile and the onset of nausea quickly follow suit.

Even as he closes his eyes, the events keep playing out in his mind, forcing him to watch a panicked public be disemboweled with every swing.

Trails of blood arc through air while men and women in lab coats are doubled over. They desperately press their entrails back into their open wounds with their bare hands, as if they think the simple act of putting them back would somehow undo the damage that's been done.

He had watched it all happen, watched it all. And did nothing but run so he didn't suffer the same fate.

Sure, he could justify his actions. Reason out every decision he'd made in the last twelve hours from every word he's spoken to every step he's taken.

Yet there's something that dwells in darkest corners of his mind and reminds him of what he hates and fears most.

"_You left them. You left everyone behind. How are you any different than Dad?_"

* * *

**11:14 AM**

"Are there any more!?" Roark remembers asking the handful of soldiers that deployed at his call about the emergency.

The soldiers gave him a sour expression before looking away, rifles still trained on the darkness ahead of them.

"They're all that could be spared," Roark whispers and shakes his head at the sight.

Shattered fragments of a riot shield crunch beneath his boots. Each step makes Roark feel as though he's sending off a signal flare to anything with ears in the area. A quick scan of the street shows him to be the only living thing still standing, but the fact does little to comfort him.

The ground is littered with metal ribbons and corpses alike. The husk of a tank stands among the dented and derelict cars. Its main gun lies beside the severed tank treads, splayed out from the rest of the eviscerated body. There's too many gashes in the hull to count. If only because it's hard to tell where one slash starts and another one ends. The heady, choking odor of fuel emanates from the liquid pooling around the destroyed vehicle.

A rifle lies at Roark's feet just before the start of a crimson carpet that trails off the main road and into one of the alleyways behind him. Wet snaps and crunches are absent from the air, giving Roark some solace in that whatever took the soldier has probably already finished its meal and gone.

The miner crouches down and stares at the gun before him. A silent debate begins in his mind, debating on whether or not it would be a good idea to bring the weapon it with him. The extra weight will slow him down and the noise it'll make if he fires it might as well be the sound of dinner bells for the entire city. The only guns he's seen were on the movie screen. Now did not seem like a good time to start riflery practice.

His eyes inch back to the crimson streak on the concrete.

"What good did it do them?" he whispers to himself, pushing off his knees and stepping over the rifle.

* * *

**4:59 AM**

He can't look away. Except that's not entirely true. He can. There's absolutely nothing around on the roof forcing him to stop watching. He wants to. But he doesn't think he has that right anymore. He can see the full length of the street leading out of Oreburgh, streetlights illuminating a macabre traffic jam of empty vehicles. The walls shift from red to blue and back again, moving to the beat of the ambulance's siren.

The people — citizens of his city — dart through the cars and down the same paths as those before them. His eyes move back to the corner of the building where concrete has crumbled away around the bony spike embedded in the roof. The memory of his last attempt is still fresh in his mind and while he wants to warn them, to scream out and tell them what's waiting for them further down the road, every time he tries to his throat seizes up and the noise dies on his lips. He can only watch silently as the people are herded through the streets.

Those too slow are cut down by Kabutops. Those able to outrun the silver cloud of blades make it down the street only to be ripped apart by ivory spikes. Once no one is left standing, the Omastar follow the Kabutops and dart back into the shadows around the buildings, waiting for another group to come into their midst.

* * *

**3:24 AM**

He knows they've failed.

He can see it in her eyes as he's sure that she can see it in his. It's almost admirable how she keeps trying. Like him, she has a responsibility to protect the city and to uphold the law. Yet, unlike him, her family's legacy is built upon generations upon generations of service to the people.

His predecessor abandoned the town after only a few years.

Whatever weight being an Officer Jenny once carried now seems insignificant when the screams begin to join the blaring sirens from the crashed ambulances. Her eyes dart back and forth, leaving her sentences orphaned as her attention switched between angry civilians.

Over the din of angry and frightened cries he knows her words are wasted on them. Not because they're hollow promises, but because he's next to her and the sound of her voice no longer reaches his ears. Her hands are outstretched to the crowd as if her palms and fingers are all she needs to hold the seething wall of panic and madness at bay. Roark takes a step back, marveling at how such a simple action can create such a dent in their wall of authority. Jenny immediately notes his distancing of her and in a momentary lapse of judgment turns to face him with a look of disbelief and betrayal.

Before she can register the guilt in his eyes, a fist slams into her face. Her hat joins her on the ground, both crumpling beneath the dozens of stomping feet that equate distance to safety. What they'll find at the end of the path is what he and Officer Jenny didn't want them to know about yet. What the city council didn't want them to know about until it was finished. At the end of their journey they'll find a half-built and unfinished facility with no way of protecting them from the crisis going on because it was only started several months ago.

* * *

**1:02 AM**

The smell hits him once he's a few blocks away from the museum. What was once thought to be dark clouds over a night sky turns out to be plumes of smoke as he feels the light and warmth reach his eyes. His run falters into a stumble that leaves him on his knees. Whatever hopes he had of reaching a phone in the pokémon center have burnt up in the inferno that erupts out of every window.

"Wh-wha..."

Roark turns and finds that he is not alone in his grief. Several people slowly approach the pyre behind him, battered and inert figures hanging in their arms. They all look at him, each of them holding the same look in their eyes. Their eyes shimmer as fear intermingles with hope and while their lips never move he can hear their whispers close in on him, asking him why this is happening and what should they do?

He has no answer for them, nothing to mollify what they've just witnessed. No placating words come to him as he moves back to his feet and turns his back on the flames. He clears his throat with a cough.

"Does anyone have a phone?"

* * *

**12:39 AM**

The property damage the Aerodactyl caused a few months back had cost the mining museum an exorbitant amount of their funding and set them back several months of progress. Since that incident, the containment dome that housed the prehistoric pokémon had been reinforced to prevent a repeat disaster. His Rampardos had even helped test its durability, attacking it for hours with seemingly no effect.

It's as this memory pops into his head that Roark comes across the shattered fragments of that very same containment dome, littering the path to the museum entrance. His brain refuses to connect the two at first. But the undeniable fact remains that shards of reinforced material belong to the massive gaping hole near the top of the dome. Roark practically tears the doors off their hinges as he bursts through the entrance and soars up the stairs. The fluorescent lights of the facility are still on. Rows of doors flanked the empty corridors that break off into different wings of the facility.

The secretary at the reception desk is long gone. Though he's not surprised considering how late it is. The scanner at each door reads his keycard and with a whirring click it opens the door for him. Access has never been an issue for Roark, especially considering that his efforts at the mines are the reason the museum had enough specimens to make a biodome.

He navigates through a series of halls; the sounds of his footfalls feel as though they were rebounding off the walls and straight back into his ears. He's never been allowed to sprint through the facility. With the amount of noise he was making, he starts to see why that rule was in effect. As he scans the deserted hallway, he starts to notice a sound that creeps amidst his thundering footsteps. Every door he opens reveals another part of the background noise. It isn't until he opens the last door and stops to listen to the sound that he realizes what it is…and immediately wishes he hadn't.

Nothing but the sound of his own beating heart is left to dampen the screams from the scientists of the facility.

One voice in the choir of screams is suddenly cut short and replaced with a gurgle and the sound of something spattering against a wall. A pool of crimson inches along the floor down the hallway a few meters ahead of him. Roark backs away slowly, his hand like a vice around the doorknob as he eases the door closed. He holds his breath, praying that the whir and click of the door locking doesn't give him away.

The key card shakes in his hand, so much so that the scanner can't read it and prompts him to try again. On his third attempt, the scanner finally reads, if only because his free hand was fastened so tightly around his wrist that his hand began to pale from lack of blood.

He's halfway through the hallway door when a metallic screech from behind makes him stumble. Roark risks a quick glance to find what looks like a shard of bone protruding from the metal of the door to the laboratory-turned-slaughterhouse. The bony blade jerks forward, deepening the wound and gaining a few centimeters of purchase before slowly sliding back. By the time the scythe retreats the door closes quietly behind him.

Roark tries to keep his breathing level, tries to keep himself from breaking into a mad dash for freedom. A thin sheen of sweat catches the light with every swing of his arms. The neurons in his body fire with a singular purpose; every thought that enters his mind is now fixated on getting out of the building. The health of his pokémon. The lives of the scientists. His love of all things fossil related. All of it lies banished into the distant horizon of his mindscape.

It's not until he makes it past the outer doors of the facility that he allows himself to let out a gasp and starts desperately gulping down air. His legs have a mind of their own, pumping up and down to put as much distance between him and the facility. Every part of him was still on high alert; every instinct screaming at him to keep moving and put as much distance between him and the facility as possible. Without his pokémon he's hopelessly outmatched and ill-equipped to handle this deadly threat. As much as it pains him to resort to lethal force against the former fossils, he can't see any other solution to keep the people of his city safe.

The Sinnohvian National Guard had brought forth tanks and a riot squad within the first few hours of the Aerodactyl incident. The scientists had urged them to let them try and calm the Aerodactyl or at least render it unconscious before the national guardsmen resorted to killing it.

Roark could sympathize with the creature; waking up in an alien world where the sights and smells and sounds all foreign. He could imagine it being scared and confused, lashing out at anything it might consider a threat. While there had been extensive property damage to the city, no one had died or been critically wounded.

Grim realization strikes him. "That's not the case this time," he mutters. "People have died. No amount of mercy pleas on my part will to save those pokémon now."

A deep metallic groan from behind him shatters whatever consistency his thoughts once had. Roark turns around on instinct, frightened of what he'll see at the facility's automated entrance. He finds no comfort at the sight of nothing actually being behind him and his dread only grows once more when another sonorous clang tells him where the sound is coming from.

The illusion of silence manages to hold for a few precious seconds before the steel at the base of the containment dome gives a long and wailing whine. The wall begins to bulge and Roark knows it won't be much longer before whatever is behind the dome bursts through. He needs a phone and he needs one fast.

* * *

**12:04 AM**

His party has finally fallen unconscious but not before leveling the house. Roark stands a few meters away from the scene, watching the last of his team collapsing to the ground. An eerie silence is all that's left standing, broken only by the sound of his own labored breaths. Muffled beneath the layers of rubble he hears the shrill cry of his cellphone.

He digs through the wreckage, years of mining experience taking hold and telling him where he needs to slip his fingers in for maximum leverage. Even without his gear, it's close enough to his line of work that he loses himself in the flow of the actions. The night's events fade into the background and he revels in the mindlessness of his task, forgetting that he's digging through the remains of his home.

It's on the fifth and final ring that he finds his phone and pulls it out of the debris. The touchscreen is cracked, sections of it blacked out like a digital cancer, but for all intents and purposes, it's still functioning. His phone promptly tells him that he's missed a call. He stares at the first few numbers, eventually recognizing them as those of the Oreburgh Mining Museum.

Before he can stop himself, his body is already going through the motions, pressing the call button and swinging the phone up to his ear. Surprising him more than his own muscle memory is the phone being functional enough to dial the number and connect him to the other side.

The moment the call goes through, a panicked voice on the other side screams at him to come and help them handle the prehistoric pokémon. Before he can even get a word in, the line abruptly goes dead, leaving Roark to wonder whether they even knew who they were talking to.

He moves about the wreckage with purpose, finding and changing into his mining uniform before pocketing the phone. With every member of his party that he checks on, the less he's sure as to what made them go berserk. When there's nothing physically wrong on the surface of their bodies, he figures it must be something going on inside. Stranger still is that whatever afflicted his team was ignoring their vast physiological and anatomical differences.

There's a part of him that can't help but feel like he's gotten off lucky. His home could be rebuilt. His precious fossils can be excavated a second time. Those that hadn't survived the collapse could just as easily be replaced with a few visits to the mines. The same could not be said for his pokémon as he returned them back to their pokéballs, silently grateful that they aren't too hurt.

The timing couldn't have been worse, but Roark knows he's obligated to visit the museum and see what he can do to help the scientists. He's the town's gym leader. And despite his age, there are things still expected of him.

* * *

**10:23 PM**

Roark sets his pokéballs on his dresser by his door and ambles over to his bed. He kicks off his boots before collapsing onto his mattress. After a long day at the mines, he lets the fatigue settle into his bones and whisk him into slumber as he welcomes what he expects to be another peaceful night's rest.


	5. The Boys Who Lived

**As always, my thanks to Zarrelion for touching up this chapter.**

* * *

James slowly eased himself away from the controls once the aircraft was finally landed. Sand and loose earth flew from their landing site and eventually settled as the whine of the engine started to die down. He let himself sink into his seat for a moment before moved back onto the controls.

Despite the lack of imminent threats, James couldn't quite trust the peace they were experiencing. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he tried to rein in his panicked breathing. Pain shot through his fingers every time he flexed his still stiff hands.

He couldn't actually believe their luck. One second the Aerodactyl was hounding them through the skies. The next moment, in a literal flash, it was gone. He had kept the aircraft in the air for a few minutes, refusing to let his guard down. Until Jessie briefly popped into the cockpit and told — no, ordered — him to land.

"That reminds me," the bluenette said the moment he tore the goggles and oxygen mask from his face.

"Jessie!" he yelled back between pants. "Is everyone okay?"

While brief, every second of unanswered silence made it impossible for his imagination to not jump to the worst possible conclusion. The Aerodactyl's last attack could've punched through the bulkhead and hit one of the twerps. It was one thing to drag the pilot's faceless and nameless corpse from the aircraft.

It was another thing entirely to haul out and leave behind the body of a boy or girl he'd seen for years. While it was true that he and Jessie thwarted their plans and tried to steal their pokémon, they had no desire to see the twerps killed or crippled.

"We're okay, James," his partner in crime finally called back, letting him release a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Jessie entered the cockpit soon after, sliding back the broken door behind her as she did so.

"Did you see what happened to the Aerodactyl?" James asked as he undid the seatbelts and turned to face her. Jessie plopped down on the copilot seat, her gaze trained on her lap, brow furrowed as she worked on how she was going tell him what happened.

"What happened? You said they were okay? Did someone get—"

Jessie shot him a look that both silenced him and told him to patient. James held his tongue and waited another minute before she began.

"The twerp's Pikachu...just…woke up and jumped out the window, then one of his other pokéballs opened and his Staravia followed. A few seconds later we saw a flash and then we didn't hear the Aerodactyl anymore, but I think you and I both know what happened," she said.

James stared at her and processed the words for a few seconds, finding that the answers he sought were not in her eyes. "You don't think the twerp's Pikachu actually…"

Jessie arched an eyebrow at him, challenging him to come up with any other plausible explanation. "Well I sure as hell don't think it was blasting off again!" she snapped.

"Right…" James replied, looking down at the rosy stains on the steel beneath his boots.

Jessie lifted her sights to the controls above her seat, almost as if she were staring right through the metal and circuitry. The look in her eyes told him she couldn't fully believe the words coming out of her mouth. Neither of them had to say it, but both of them knew what the Twerp's Pikachu had done.

Their metaphor of the twerp's Pikachu being a lethal weapon had become terrifyingly literal. Pikachu was no longer just a prized and uniquely powerful Pokémon but a weapon on par with a bomb.

"Guess now was a good time to stop trying to pilfer the twerp's Pikachu, eh Jess?" James said with a forced chuckle.

Jessie's only response to slump into the copilot seat and deflate.

"Wait, Jess. If the twerp's pokémon are awake, then maybe Meowth—"

"And the others!" Jessie finished, moving out of the cockpit and into other half of the ship.

Ash had migrated back to the right side of the ship. His gaze locked on the world beyond the window. The twerpette was pulling the inflatable dinghy back to its original place from the other end of the room where it had flown about from the aircraft's evasive maneuvers.

Brock needed only to glance at the rocket members to know what they wanted. Without a word he moved away to check on Dawn, but not before gently placing Meowth on one of the few undamaged seats. James felt Jessie's hand curl around his as they drew closer to their teammate. James gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

In contrast to the state of their surroundings, Meowth looked completely peaceful as if he were asleep.

James reached out with his finger and poked the cat's cheek. The effort provoked a few unintelligible mumbles and a halfhearted swipe of his paw. James had jerked his hand away on reflex, but noted that Meowth's claws had not extended from his paw.

When James did not move Jessie then tried her hand at waking their teammate.

Every snore Jessie poked out of Meowth wore away at her patience until several minutes of gentle poking and prodding gave way to her more direct approach.

She lifted the cat off the seat from his shoulders and shook him back and forth as she spewed expletives and threats that managed to tear Ash's attention from the window. Brock looked like he was about to say something but kept silent, knowing it wasn't his place to tell them how to handle their own teammate. Dawn looked at the scene in horror and cast her glance back at the floor.

Jessie's methods eventually came through when the interior of the ship became filled with Meowth's frantic screams.

"What's damatta wit ya, can'ta pokémon get some shuteye!" Meowth shouted as he readied a claw to scratch Jessie's face.

The claw, however, never reached its destination. In the instant that Meowth saw her expression his paw froze in midswipe. The cat found himself crushed into her embrace and quickly felt another weight on his back when James joined in on the hug.

Air deprived as he was, Meowth quickly took note of the aircraft's interior, as well as the presence of the Twerp Trio around them. The repeated slams of his paw against Jessie's back let his teammates know he'd reached the limit of life without oxygen.

Both team members took the hint and backed away, unleashing an enormous gasp into the room. Jessie held Meowth at arm's length from his armpits before lowering him back onto the seat.

"What did I miss?" he asked with a paw pressed against his temple.

"It's a long stor—" James began until light beyond the window darkened briefly. The bluenette was about to make a mad dash for the cockpit until joined cries filtered in through the windows. Ash barreled past them, slamming into the door and wrenching it open as if it were the last thing standing between him and being a pokémon master.

The boy from Pallet hadn't even taken two steps out the aircraft before getting pounced on by a yellow blur. Ash's stunned and fearful expression didn't last long before the laughs burst from him and mixed tears of relief and joy started to flow. Staravia fluttered beside them and gave the beaked equivalent of a smile.

Brock wanted to smile, to join in on the happiness and be lost in the moment like Ash was, but a sideways glance at Dawn's expression dragged him back to the reality of their situation. Brock couldn't blame Ash for only seeing his longest and most trusted friend, but he also couldn't blame Dawn for seeing the creature that had killed one of her pokémon.

While subtle, Brock noted the way Jessie and James inched away from Ash and Pikachu. Years of struggle and failure hadn't been enough to deter the duo from following them across four entire regions and a few oceans. But now, the wary look in their eyes told him they now wanted to put that same amount of distance between them.

"_Are they? No they couldn't be, but their eyes…They're…they're actually afraid of Pikachu!_" he mused.

It didn't take a genius to figure out why, especially after what he'd told James about Ambipom's fate and the sudden disappearance of the Aerodactyl. If he were honest with himself, the thought of what that adorable creature nuzzling against Ash's face could do to all of them in an instant sent a chill down his spine.

"So did we get in anudda temporary truce wit da twerps?" Meowth asked aloud.

Four pairs of eyes silently turned to stare at the Rocket duo for confirmation.

"We did," James affirmed with gentle nod back to their temporary partners. "But, Meowth, how are you feeling?"

"My whole body's sore and it's like my melon's bin blended an' poured back in," he said with a groan.

"Pikachu looks all right," Ash chimed in with a smile, which quickly disappeared upon seeing Dawn's scowl.

"We should check to see if our other pokémon are okay too," Brock said.

"I'm going to check to ship to make sure it isn't too damaged to lift off again. If you're gonna check on your pokémon, do it outside," James added as he moved past them and out of the aircraft. The others quickly followed suit while Jessie and Meowth stayed behind.

"Aren't ya gonna go wit dem, Jessie?" Meowth asked.

"The others got hurt really badly so I'll wait until the older twerp is done checking on his pokémon before I ask him to check mine," Jessie replied.

"Jessie, what happened?" Meowth whispered once the others were out of sight.

"You mean don't remember?"

Meowth only shook his head. "I rememba da fight b'tween you and James. Us callin' da boss, gettin' a plane, sleepin' on the ship, then my head started hurtin' an'…"

Jessie noticed Meowth freeze, his eyes widening and his jaw going slack. She figured he was seeing what had happened and put her hand on his shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Meowth. I don't think you hurt anyone," she said in an attempt to calm the demons that were starting to reappear within Meowth's psyche.

"It's not dat, Jessie. I rememba bits an' pieces of what happened, but dere was a voice in my head. I don't rememba everyting he said but…" Meowth trailed off, his paws on his legs as he wrung the fur in his grip.

"But what, Meowth? What did the voice say? Do you know who the voice belonged to?" Jessie pressed on, hoping to decipher the past hours' events.

Meowth's reply was a shake of his head. "Whoever it was he said that he'd given us da powah ta take…back…something."

"Do you remember anything else?"

"It's fuzzy but I rememba hearin' da word humans and…"

"And what Meowth?" A vague sense of unease permeated Jessie as she processed Meowth's last words. But for knowledge's sake, she had to press on.

Meowth had debated on whether or not to divulge the last word he had heard, but hiding something like that from his teammates might end up making things worse later on.

"…Kill…" He shuddered as if the word itself pained him.

* * *

"So what's the damage?"

James turned to face the former gym leader, his stony expression at odds with the beaming Happiny in his arms.

"The Aerodactyl's last attack punched a hole in the fuel line. I can fix it, but it'll take some time to make sure the leak is sealed," James replied as he examined the damaged hull of the tilt-rotor. The heady scent of aviation fuel confirmed his statement.

"How long will that take to patch up?"

"Damage like this?" James removed a punctured hull plate, exposing the damaged area. He examined it for a few seconds, doing the math in his head. "It's not the Meowth balloon but I could probably patch this up in less than an hour."

"I guess that'll have to do." The breeder relented and started walking away. He made it a few steps before stopping to turn back. "I forgot to ask, how's Mime Jr.?"

"To be honest I haven't checked on him yet, but judging from your Happiny I'm sure he's fine. I left his pokéball with Jessie's party," James replied with a smile.

"Yeah, she's fine. Croagunk and Sudowoodo are okay as well."

"And the twer…your friends?" he asked.

"Their pokémon are fine but…"

James allowed for a few seconds of silence before gently urging him to continue.

"It's Dawn. I overheard her…she…she's telling her pokémon about Ambipom," Brock replied.

"And you don't think she should?" James asked.

"No, I…it's just…the way she's telling them. She's hurt and angry that she's the only one of us that lost a pokémon. I get that she's hurt and angry and I tried to get her to consider that Ambipom was originally part of Ash's party and that he's hurting just as much, but seeing him with Pikachu earlier makes it hard for her to believe that. I can't reason with her when she's like this."

"She's going to need some time to sort this out, but I'm sure she'll come around eventually."

"I know that, but it doesn't make the waiting any easier."

The brief silence that ensued was broken suddenly with a weak chuckle from the former gym leader.

"Something funny?" James asked as he gently moved some wiring aside.

"This situation. Just us talking like…like this. I never would've thought I'd be sharing these kinds of issues with you of all people."

James gave a weak smile and nodded. "We're all in the same boat right now and while this isn't the first time we've gotten together because of a crisis, I can see how this situation could be a little funny."

"Well I've taken enough of your time so I'll leave you to get to it." Brock sighed and made his way around the craft, the crunch of gravel and sand marking each step.

"Brock?" James eventually blurted out, finding that the name sounded foreign coming from him.

"Yeah?" the breeder called out from his spot behind the aircraft once the sound of his footfalls had stopped.

"If you could, you know if you have time, to check on Jessie's pokémon for me…I'd appreciate it."

A short passing breeze filled gap of quiet that hung between them until Brock finally replied.  
"Sure, James."

* * *

"I'm really glad that you guys are all right. I need to talk with Brock for a bit so just relax while I get back," Ash announced as he pushed himself up from a kneel and made his way around the ship and out of view.

"You guys all saw that, right?" Buizel said, finding himself on the receiving end of five pairs of eyes.

"Yeah, I did," Pikachu eventually replied. Staravia and Chimchar nodded quietly in affirmation.

"Wait, what're guys talking about?" Gliscor asked, eyes darting between his teammates in hopes of some clue.

"Of course the one who constantly tackles him wouldn't know," Buizel replied with a huff as he turned his back to Gliscor.

"He's hurting" Chimchar explained.

"Really? He looked fine to me," the aeroscorp replied. "He seemed really happy to see us. How could you tell he was in pain?"

"Trust me, I can tell when someone's hurt and hiding it." Chimchar's stare was cold and heavy. Enough that Gliscor didn't dare question it.

"He does seem to be hiding some discomfort," Staravia pointed out.

"Last night when we…you don't think one of us might've…" Turtwig's question trailed off as he glanced around the ring of solemn expression that wouldn't meet his eyes.

"It's…possible" Staravia eventually replied.

"If we hurt him, wouldn't he have said something about it?" Gliscor interjected.

"Ash has always tried to hide his discomfort around us, even if we're the ones that've hurt him," Pikachu replied.

"So who do you think did it?" the water weasel coldly muttered, casting another cloud of silence over the group.

"To be honest I can't really remember what happened that night," Gliscor replied.

"I too, find the previous night's events to be rather hazy," Staravia added.

"The pain made it little hard to remember anything that was happening," Turtwig added.

"How convenient for all of you then," Buizel growled.

"And what about you, Buizel! If you know so much about last night how about you tell us!" Turtwig snapped.

Buizel was quiet for some time, an internal struggle made apparent by his expression as he worked out his next response. "Did none of you hear those…those words" he hissed back, his revelation deflated their anger.

Each them stared at each other for support, unsure about what he was talking about.

"That voice in our heads," Pikachu calmly added, shifting everyone's focus over to him.

"Okay, so I'm not crazy." Buizel sighed. His rigid posture suddenly relaxed and revealed an exhausted water weasel.

"Okay, I'm lost now. You both heard a voice?" the aeroscorp chimed in.

"It was faint because of everything that was happening, but I definitely heard a voice in my head. As to what it said, I was only able to hear a few words."

"Same here, that's why I was worried it had been me," Pikachu added.

"Might we trouble the two of you to elaborate on what those words are?" Gliscor asked.

Pikachu stared at Buizel for a few seconds before looking towards the aircraft. "Buizel, mind explaining it to them? I wanna check on Buneary and the others and see if they had the same situation," he said.

Buizel threw him an aggravated look, clearly displeased at being saddled with explaining the situation by himself.

"Fine…" came the water weasel's huff of resignation, "but make it quick! I don't know if we both heard the same things."

"Will do!" Pikachu smiled and darted off around the ship and over to Dawn's group, leaving Buizel with his expectant audience already boring holes through his back with their eyes.

"If we're all together, why were our groups even separated?"

* * *

Brock was just making his way around the aircraft when he saw Ash standing beside the cockpit.

"Hey Ash, what's up?" The concerned look in the trainer's eyes told him the visit was not for idle chitchat. "Is something wrong with one of your pokémon?"

"No, they're fine," Ash replied. "It's just that…I know you're not a human doctor but, my arm's been feeling itchy these last few hours. I didn't think anything about it until I went to the bathroom mirror and looked at it and I wanted to know if you knew anything about this."

Brock said nothing, already having an idea of what he was going to be shown when Ash rolled up his sleeves. At first glance the jagged marks on his skin looked almost artistic, like a tattoo. The ends were flowery strokes that traced some unseen pattern and branched off like a tree, while the stem was an erratic line, not unlike a lightning bolt.

"Is it like a rash?"

"Not like any I've ever seen. Maybe we landed in something when we ran away from our pokémon. I can't think of anything we've touched in those woods that would've caused this reaction to us."

"Us?" Ash asked.

Brock nodded and pulled at his collar, showing a similar design all along his shoulder and arm.  
"Dawn has some along her back. I noticed when she was throwing up in the bathroom."

Ash winced at the mention of her name, turning to face the ship and staring at it, almost as if he were trying to see through it to where Dawn was. "How is she?"

"How do you think she is, Ash? This is the first time she's lost a pokémon. I figured the both of you would be feeling terrible about the whole thing since Ambipom wasn't just her pokémon."

Ash quietly stared at him for a few seconds. "In all honesty I'm…I'm trying not to think about it too much. I sometimes…it just pops up and I can't help it. It hurts, a lot. More than Celebi and Lucario," Ash replied, as he kept his eyes trained on the floor.

"You only knew them for a few days. Aipom was…" Brock stopped himself the moment he saw Ash's eyes shimmer. A second later, the boy's cap was pulled down, veiling his eyes.

Ash's previous action was a truly rare instance. A brief instant in time where he revealed himself to be just as vulnerable as any boy his age. Given that Brock had seen Ash do this a dozen times, it was a true testament to their years of friendship. The moment lasted a few seconds before the cap lifted up and revealed Ash's brown eyes free of tears and fully composed once more.

"I'm sad, but I'm grateful that Pikachu and my other pokémon are okay. Being sad right now isn't going to help get us out of this place any faster. We need to get Dawn home and…and…I don't know what I'll do at that point, but we'll figure it out when we get there," Ash said.

"Okay," Brock replied, knowing there were some battles that needed temporary retreats before victory could be claimed. "Just don't bottle all of it up, 'kay?"

Ash didn't look at him as he walked out of view, muttering something Brock could only decipher as, "I'll try."

* * *

Pikachu immediately took note of the tension in the air as he drew closer to Dawn's party. The lack of cheerful chatter or any other words, for that matter, was the first thing he noticed. Another detail he noticed was that no one in the group looked at one another.

There was a sense of emptiness that hung about them, as if something was missing.

He immediately noticed that Dawn was not there. While it was true that her presence was not felt, it couldn't account for the cloud of dread that permeated the air around the coordinator's group. It wasn't immediately apparent until Pikachu began to count the other members.

"Piplup, Swinub, Pachirisu, Buneary," he said aloud as he looked over the group, "and…wher—"

"Leave," Swinub growled. "They don't want to talk to you right now." The venom in his tone froze Pikachu in his tracks.

"Guys, what going o—"

"Go! Away!" Pachirisu snapped, his yellow cheeks flaring to life with arcs of writhing electricity.

Speechless, Pikachu glanced at Piplup and Buneary for some kind of answer. Their actions spoke louder than any words they could have mustered; the former shot a steely glare his way and then theatrically turned his back. The latter gave him a look laced with equal parts concern, fear, sadness and anger.

"Is it true?" came Buneary's tremulous question, eyes shimmering more and more the longer she stared at him.

"Is what true? What are all of you talking about? What did I do?" the electric starter replied, completely loss as to what he was guilty of.

Buneary spun to face the others. Whatever weakness her voice had carried when speaking to him had been replaced with iron as she spoke with her teammates. "He doesn't know. His trainer didn't tell him. Let me talk to him!"

As Buneary spoke, she stared down each of her teammates, daring them to challenge her. Within a few seconds, the air was filled with several growls and mumbles of begrudging approval.

Pikachu watched the bunny pokémon hop over to him, grab him by the paw and lead him away from her group.

It became quickly apparent that the place she had in mind for their private conference was far away from the ship and deep inside the quarry. Pikachu would've protested that they shouldn't be so far away from the group but held his tongue. Curiosity as to what he was being blamed overrode his sense of caution but at the same time, the implications of what Buneary was going to tell him worried him.

The tilt-rotor craft was well out of sight before Buneary felt that they were far enough to be out of earshot and let go of Pikachu's paw.

"Okay, so what was that about?" Pikachu asked.

"What do you remember about last night?"Buneary asked.

"I remember waking up to this blinding pain and I think I was letting loose some lightning."

Buneary's flinch at the mention of his element did not escape his notice, the fur around her body raised momentarily before settling down once more as he resumed speaking.

"I think I hurt Ash but he's trying to hide it." Pikachu noticed Buneary's expression change. "Bun, did I hurt someone from your group?" Dread at her answer began to well up within him.

Buneary's eyes started shimmering once more, enough that her eyes could no longer hold back the tears. "I-I tried telling them you didn't do it on purpose, that it must've been an accident! I did, I really did!"

Pikachu gently grabbed her shoulders to steady her. "I know you did, Bun, but I need to know what happened."

"There's no easy way to tell you this…but Ambi's dead."

Whatever warmth Pikachu once had felt ripped out of him, leaving behind a hollow shell, a somber echo within.

"Dawn told us…Ambi's heart was stopped by one of your lightning bolts. I know you two were close before she started working with Dawn so I know this hurts you just as much as it hurts the others. The others can't seem to get that. They don't hate you, they're just…" Buneary paused to wipe her eyes as she fished for the right word. "…having a hard time dealing with what happened."

The cloud that had hung over Dawn's party had apparently migrated over to them now. Tears flowed freely from Pikachu's eyes now, as dozens of memories from the forefront of his thoughts. Aipom had always held a special place in Pikachu's heart, something deeper than simple camaraderie that he had with his other teammates but more along the lines of the bonds he shared with Bulbasaur, Squirtle and Charizard.

There was a sense of kinship he had shared with her despite not having been on the team for as long as some of Ash's previous catches. She had been one of the few pokémon that insisted on remaining outside of her pokéball and had taken her place atop Ash's other shoulder. Even after she joined Dawn's group, he had never stopped looking at her as one of their teammates.

"I…I killed her." The grim realization came to him, hitting him harder than any attack he had ever taken since he started his journey with Ash. The moment he realized his paws were still on Buneary, he jerked them away.

"You're not gonna hurt me," she said as she intercepted his paws and clasped onto them. "I know you better than that. You'd never try and hurt us if you could help it. This was an accident. I'm sad she's gone, but this doesn't change the way I feel about you."

Buneary's voice sounded distant, Pikachu could barely make out the words in the depths of his own mind.

"_That Aerodactyl I attacked…I knew it looked and smelled different but I…it's dead too! I killed it! I killedAmbipom! IhurtAsh! WhatifIkillAshwhatifhe'llbenextwhatifIkilleveryone…_"

Buneary watched as Pikachu started falling over and rushed in to steady him. He hung there for a moment before regaining his footing. The stone beneath him darkened where his tears fell. She noticed the sudden twitch of his ears as he pushed himself away from her with a desperate look in his eyes.

"Bun, where's her body?" he asked.

"Dawn…Dawn says they left it back at the camp. I think we're back at the place where the Piplup and I brought down the Aerodactyl, so I guess it's a really long way from here. Why?"

Pikachu made a fist, his entire body shaking in a mixture of sorrow and rage. Just as quickly as the desperate idea had formed in his mind, reality saw fit to shoot it down. Even if her body was there, did they even have enough pokémon, enough tears to bring her back like they had Ash?

"No reason." Pikachu exhaled as he unclenched the fist he'd made, finding Buneary's own paw enclosing onto his.

"I'm here for you," she whispered, giving him a weak smile that might as well have been a spear through his heart. Pikachu had always known Buneary's feelings for him, feelings that he admittedly hadn't reciprocated.

The crunch of gravel stole the focus from his thoughts. It was a subtle noise; the sound of one trying to move without being noticed.

Normally Pikachu wouldn't have noticed a noise from such a distance with such clarity. But ever since that night, all his senses felt sharper, more refined. His movements felt stronger, yet effortless. Stranger still was the word that kept floating to the surface of his thoughts whenever he questioned these newfound strengths: complete. He had been given something he had never known to be lacking, leaving him feeling whole and powerful.

The sensation before the pain of the night prior started as what he could only be described as a tingling, as if something were crawling under his skin, starting from the ends of his body and working its way to his core. And then pressure began to build within him, threatening to make him throw up without any actual nausea or substance. Trying to fight the sensation resulted in an instant and merciless headache that made him feel as though his head were splitting. And then the tingling was replaced by blinding hypersensitivity.

Quiet sounds became deafening white noise, subtle aromas became mind-numbing stenches and at one point had had become acutely aware of every hair on his body. His element surged through his veins in a desperate fight for release to the outside world. The more he fought to keep it in, the more it burst forth until darkness and exhaustion took him. Somewhere in the midst of all of that he had murdered his teammate.

The moment he awoke, he saw Ash and his friends under duress. Moving on instinct, without orders from Ash or anyone in the plane, he acted. He had seen what was happening and reacted on what he thought was the best course of action. Never had it crossed his mind that the creature he attacked had suffered the same fate as Ambipom.

Carried along with the initial noise was the faint scent of blood; a scent Pikachu had recognized well from the moment he smelled it emanating from the Aerodactyl's toothy maw. At least until the smell was replaced with charred and smoking flesh. Whatever crept through the quarry to reach them did not smell remotely friendly.

"Pikachu, did you hear that?" Buneary asked. Both of her ears were now extended to catch another instance of the noise.

"Yeah. It doesn't smell friendly. We need to head back and warn the others. I'll warn my group, you warn yours," Pikachu said.

Buneary's nod was quickly followed by a wince when the electric starter burst from his spot with blinding speed, sending an earthen spray in the opposite direction. Pikachu didn't check to see if Buneary was catching up with him. His focus tunneled onto the single goal of warning the others. Once that was done he could start working on a way to mount a defense against whatever what heading towards them.

* * *

Combat was something he understood, it was easier to manage than thoughts of Ambipom and her death. Buizel and the others quickly came into view, already on alert from the way he came at them.

"Have you seen Ash?" he asked. In the back of his mind, he noted that he wasn't even remotely winded from his sprint.

"He hasn't come back yet. What's going on? Did Dawn's group hear something similar?" Buizel asked.

"I didn't get that far. Buneary and I heard something heading our way it doesn't smell like something that wants to be friendly."

"What do you suggest we do?"

That single sentence transformed Pikachu. In a moment, he had switched roles from pokémon to trainer.

"Rave, we're gonna need some eyes in the sky! See if you can find out what's heading our way but don't let them know you're there. Turtwig, you're fast, so go find Meowth and tell him to let the others know something's heading our way! Chim, go underground and make a series of h—" he barked

"Shouldn't we wait for Ash?" Gliscor interjected.

Pikachu paused, realizing that what he was doing was something normally within Ash's jurisdiction.

"There's no time, Glis!" Pikachu exclaimed. "We don't have time to wait for him to get here, explain the situation and then wait for his orders."

"Where do you need me?" Buizel asked as he poked Pikachu in the shoulder.

"Zel, go see if Buneary is back with her group and let her know what we're planning, then come back and tell me what you've got. Glis, go and find Brock's pokémon and get them ready. I'll stay here and come up with what you should do when you get back. Are we clear?"

"Clear!" five voices cried in unison before the group split off on their assigned tasks leaving the electric starter standing by himself.


	6. Shell-Shocked

**And with the much appreciated help of Zarrelion, I bring to you the next chapter for this month.**

* * *

Keluruselqa moved through the rock quarry, his movements mere shadows of whispers, or so he liked to believe. Mere feet away were the other Kabutops that saw the metal bird land in the quarry. Even further behind were the Omastar, hoping to catch a bite themselves but keeping their distance lest they overstep their bounds as the scavengers. There were no Kabuto left in his group, all of them having evolved during the early hours of the day, back when the creatures that roamed the streets had been plentiful.

The voice that had spoken to him in his mind had called the creatures "humans" and told them that the world they had known had been taken away by these very same creatures. A surge of power then welled within him, awakening a primal yet foreign hunger.

As a Kabuto his first few kills had gone been much easier than he had expected. What the humans made up for in size, they lacked in speed and strength. Even the simplest attacks were too much for them to handle, making him wonder how they had ever taken the world from his kind in the first place.

He could still hear their screams and feel their pitiful excuse for claws raking ineffectively against his shell in a desperate attempt to pull him off their faces. How the cries became gurgles when he pried the supple flesh off the bone. He watched the Kabutops slash through their prey and bury their heads into freshly made wounds.

He envied the lethal speed and savage strength of the Kabutops. Eventually, that envy manifested in a flash of white light.

It was if some deity had heard his wishes. He opened his eyes and found he was several feet off the ground. His first few steps were clumsy, stumbling over the sudden changes in his body. Despite his clumsy movements, hunting down the humans became even easier than before. At some point, he switched from hunting to slaughtering.

As the sun rose higher into the sky, he quickly grew to realize his mistake. He was now hungry, and the kills left behind in his orgy of bloodlust had been picked clean. The streets were fairly empty now, save for the other groups looking for their own food. Humans had been plentiful and easy meals but Kel and his group weren't sure they wanted to take on creatures that could put up a fight — or even win — like the Cradily or Armaldo.

A pecking order was quickly established once the grey flying one began to hunger. Many quickly learned to duck for cover and hide whenever a shadow passed overhead. Those that didn't soon found themselves becoming the hunted. Some groups formed an uneasy truce, out of the simple hope of not to drawing the attention of the flying one.

As luck would have it, the Aerodactyl's reign was short lived when another creature entered the sky. It was fast, able to dodge most of the flying one's attacks until one finally connected. This new flying creature responded in kind and hit its attacker with lightning, killing it instantly. Kel's group ran to the landing site of the felled creature, but found that the Cradily had beaten them to the meal.

While slow, the Cradily were sturdy, and did not need to move quickly to attack. Kel had watched one of its earlier victims attempt to strike it, only to drop dead as its lifeforce was siphoned out of its body. Others out of leeching range were met with splashes of acid and orbs of green energy.

Kel and his group begrudgingly backed off and began attacking the vacant buildings to vent their frustration. Lapajarvi, another former Kabuto that was resurrected after him approached him with a bold plan.

"What of the new flying creature?" Lap asked.

"What of it?" Kel replied.

"It's wounded and had to land." Lap motioned with his scythe over to the quarry across the ravine.

"What exactly are you suggesting?"

"We can sneak into its midst and finish it off. You saw how much bigger it was, think of the meat."

"I also saw how much more powerful it was."

"It can't get all of us," Lap whispered. "That last attack must've been debilitating enough to make it land; it might already be half dead."

"Others may be thinking the same," Kel replied. He saw that Lap's will was not diminished by this possibility.

"If any others make it before us and the creature is strong enough to fight back, then it may kill some of our competition. It will be weakened by the encounter and we can finish it off more easily. Double the meat."

With an offer like that it didn't take much to rally the others to the cause and to make their way across the bridge and into the quarry.

Kel and his group moved quietly at first, hoping to not alert the beast or any possible attackers of their presence. He made sure to peek around every corner before letting the rest of the group pass and found that his carefulness was soon rewarded with the sight of the flying creature, grounded and still.

Whatever joy he'd drawn from the sight was drained from him at the sight of several creatures already surrounding the downed flying creature. Upon closer inspection he noticed that a few of them were just humans that quickly hid behind or inside of the flying creature's body, confirming that it was dead as far as Kel was concerned. Among the humans were other creatures that were considerably smaller in size and weren't hiding.

He scanned the area, wondering how to go about the attack. Their prey was surrounded on all sides by stone, the only way out would be through the open path and around the bend. Scaling the stone didn't offer much of an advantage, nor did running headfirst into the fray.

Tactics did not seem to be on Lap's mind, seeing as the moment Kel told him of their opposition, Lap ran out and claimed that he would have the biggest slice of the meat. Keeping the others in control after that was like trying to caress something lovingly with the edge of his scythes.

Lap had a good lead on the others until one of his legs plunged through the ground and forced him to reacquaint his face with the earth. He stabbed at the ground as he tried to get back onto his feet. The moment he tried to find purchase with the other scythe, it sank through what appeared to be another hole. Sand erupted from the ground as Lap was hurled into the air.

The force of whatever struck him from below was enough to dislodge both of his blades and knock him onto his back. A tiny red creature landed on his chest, an open flame on its backside flared just before a river of flame erupted from the creature's mouth and over Lap's face.

Lap screamed. He frantically slashed at everything and anything nearby as he tried to put the flames out. The fire creature leapt back and retreated into one of the holes that he had unveiled.

Other Kabutops kept running, the promise of meat too tantalizing to ignore. Others stopped to help their burning comrade or at the least, get a quick and easy meal. Some kicked sand onto Lap in an attempt to save him, but their efforts weren't enough to stifle the hunger of the flames.

Dozens of glowing stars and leaves came to greet the horde of eager Kabutops. Their desire for food was so great that even when torn in half by the projectiles, their lower bodies continued for a few more feet before toppling onto the sand. One of the Kabutops that stayed behind tried stabbing the holes in the ground, thinking he had skewered the little beast as he twisted the blade left to right. The fate of the tiny fire creature was quickly answered when a tower of fire erupted from the hole and engulfed the shellfish pokémon.

Kel couldn't help but consider that the creatures that were attacking them somehow already knew his group was coming given how well prepared they were. More and more Kabutops were falling into holes made by the fire beast. Those that weren't set on fire, or diced by stars and leaves were introduced to a new method of death in being frozen in place by a thin cerulean beam.

Some of the burning Kabutops thrashed blindly in an attempt to put out the fires that ate away at their flesh. Their actions proved worse than useless. Their panicked flailing only served to dismember or ignite their neighbors.

A wall of bubbles flew at them, each burst releasing an explosion powerful rip the limbs off any unfortunate creature nearby when it ruptured. Those who avoided the concussive blast were peppered and shredded by their comrades' exoskeletons turned shrapnel.

Kel was about to give the order to retreat but when he turned around, he noticed the horde of Omastar amassing behind them. They were a lot closer than scavengers had any right to be and the distance between them was growing shorter with every death his group suffered.

He recognized the look in their eyes because it was the same look that Lap had sported when he burst ahead of them: hunger.

The dread washed over him like a wave. In trying to be the first to reach their next meal, they never considered that they themselves would become the force meant to distract and weaken their targets.

The Omastar would be scavengers no more.

* * *

Brock risked a peek from out of the ship. A sense of amazed horror washed over him as he gazed out upon the slaughter. Part of him felt happy that their pokémon had taken no casualties — or even injuries. The distinction between a trained pokémon and a wild pokémon was evident in this massacre.

How was this any different from what the Muk were doing in Hearthome City? Instead of people, it was wild pokémon. These were prehistoric creatures taken from their era — creatures still hardwired to function on the rules of that time period. Eat or be eaten. Kill or be killed.

"_Given the chance they would kill you and everyone here without a second thought_."

"_Given the chance, none of them would've wanted to have been resurrected into this time period in the first place_."

Conflicting thoughts swirled within Brock's mind. He wasn't sure whether to turn away in disgust, congratulate their pokémon for their battle prowess, examine everything with a scientist's dispassionate eye or just pretend the massacre wasn't happening.

As he watched the slaughter, he couldn't help but notice that Pikachu had yet to unleash any electric attacks. If his outburst the night before was anything to go off of, a single blast of electricity could end the battle in mere seconds. Even more astonishing, from what he could see, Pikachu was telling the others what to do.

"Brock, what's happening?" Dawn's voice broke him from his ruminations. He turned around to see the coordinator with Happiny in her arms.

The breeder looked back, seeing everyone huddled close but ready to dodge anything that was thrown at them.

Croagunk, Sudowoodo, Gliscor, Meowth, Swinub and Mime Jr. had stayed with the trainers as they lacked reliable long-range attacks.

"Things look like they're going…well. It doesn't look like any of our pokémon are hurt," he replied.

Ash turned as he overheard the conversation. "The other pokémon that they're fighting…are the attacks that are hitting them. Are they making the other pokémon…faint?"

"No, Ash." Brock finished grimly, before peeking back out of one of the holes in the fuselage.

* * *

One of the Kabutops dove into their midst, having avoided everything that had been thrown at the horde. Piplup dodged the scythe stabbing into the ground where he had stood only a second ago. He was about to prepare another Bubblebeam, but thought better of it. At such close range the explosions — if its previous victims were anything to go off of — were just as likely to harm him and his allies.

He weighed his movepool. Creating a whirlpool would take too long. Going at the creature with his beak invited a lethal retaliatory blow if he missed or his opponent survived the initial strike. Pachirisu found himself caught in the same situation, having little to no physical capability and with long-range attacks that were as likely to harm him or his allies as they were to damage the enemy.

While brief, the momentary lapse in their offensive was all the incentive two other Kabutops needed to move in. Turtwig used Razor Leaf as he charged in. The sharp leaves simply deflected off the Kabutops's blades but having to deal with another attacker slowed them down a bit. Piplup hopped over a horizontal slash only to feel the presence of another blade coming down from behind him. A keening screech filled the air as Pikachu's Iron Tail collided with the bony blade. A quick spin sent the blade off its deadly trajectory.

Pikachu hit the ground on all fours, positioning his tail across his back and bracing himself for the inevitable follow up strike while he was down. Half a second passed without incident, making Pikachu shift his gaze up to see why the next blow hadn't landed. The blade from the Kabutops's free arm was still raised high in the air.

Staravia had grabbed the arm just below the blade and was flapping with all his might as if he were trying to pull the arm off its owner.

A sphere of water soared over Pikachu's head and burst against the Kabutops behind him and Piplup. The Kabutops reared her other scythe for another strike. If the aquatic attack had done anything, it succeeded in agitating her. Before the blade could complete its arc, the water glistening off her body hardened into ice and held her in place from the neck down.

A pale blue beam — courtesy of Buneary — dissipated just in time for her to duck beneath the eager slash of another Kabutops beside her. Pikachu was about to run in to help her until he saw Chimchar burst out of the ground and slam his fist into the shellfish pokémon's jaw at the exact same moment that Turtwig tackled the back of its legs. The Kabutops's cry from behind him served as an excellent reminder of where his priorities lay.

Pikachu sprung into the air and swung his metallic tail at the nearest target. He felt a little bit of resistance as the blade caught his target's throat. Her widened eyes stared back at him as he forced his tail deeper into the wound. He was already halfway through her neck and twisted his body to push another few centimeters through.

Ash's starter watched the light leave her eyes just before gravity took over and pulled her head from his view. Whilst in its metallic state, Pikachu never once felt the warmth of her blue blood on his tail.

"_Someone else is dead because of me_." The somber thought was quickly pushed from his mind when the sounds of battle reached him.

Staravia released the Kabutops's arm and quickly twisted away to move back into the skies. Piplup saw the opening and leapt at his newest attacker, funneling the energy of his body into his beak until it glowed and elongated. The Kabutops took note and retaliated faster than the water starter had anticipated.

Pikachu watched in dismay as the blades closed in on Piplup but he was too far away to do anything. Adrenaline coursed through his body, slowing everyone's movements to a crawl. In fact, the moment the battle had started, everything seemed to be moving slower than usual. At first it had been an advantage that Pikachu couldn't help but appreciate. Now it felt like a curse as he watched the tips of the blade draw closer and closer in slow motion.

"_I can hit him with one of my bolts…but what if Piplup gets caught in the blast. That's another death on my paws. Another one of Dawn's party, another friend gone because of me. But if I don't he'll die anyway. Everyone else is too far to do anything. Will they blame me if I don't try? But if I do…_"

It came then as a surprise when a glowing white cone stabbed through the Kabutops's chest, throwing its body out of the Penguin pokémon's path. Piplup's momentum carried him a few more feet before he spun through the air, landed and dissipated the gathered energy in his beak. Thoughts of checking to make sure the Kabutops was truly dead were forgotten when another glowing spike punched through the air next to Piplup's head.

The battlefield was littered with the bodies of fallen Kabutops, some blackened from the fires, others frozen in place and many had been reduced to scattered limbs and shell fragments scarcely recognizable as once belonging to a pokémon. Standing at the edge of the carnage was a line of Omastar, the spikes on their spiral shells glowing briefly just before launching another round of spikes.

Turtwig had little difficulty darting between the spikes, being fast and a small target. Staravia twisted and weaved around the shots aimed at him as he moved steadily over to the Omastar's side of the battlefield in hopes of redirecting some of their attacks away from the others. Chimchar dove through the earth as if it were no more solid than water. Buneary used the spikes as stepping stones, her momentum turning the spikes away from the ship. But soon, the rain of projectiles became too overwhelming and forced her to retreat into one of Chimchar's earlier holes.

Buizel did not share that advantage, being too large to fit into Chimchar's subterranean network. He darted back and forth across the battlefield as a torpedo of water, drawing most of their fire as he approached and retreated. Piplup, while being small enough to follow Chimchar and Buneary into their place of safety, lacked their agility. Which is where Pikachu came in.

Tufts of dirt burst from the earth with every swipe of Pikachu's tail as he deflected the incoming spikes into the ground. The clangs from every collision against his tail soon became a continuous ring as he transformed into yellow and gray blur. Piplup could do little more than watch at his teammate's astounding speed.

Little did the water starter know was that as impressive as Pikachu's feat was, it was extremely tiring. And was his energy was quickly flagging.

The ground beneath Pikachu and Piplup's feet gave out before his body did, plummeting them into a wide trench. The fall itself wasn't very far — a few feet at most — but it was enough that a row of spikes adorned the lip of the trench just above their heads. Chimchar, Pachirisu, Buneary, and Turtwig appeared next to them.

"Nice to see you guys." Pikachu sighed, letting his tail shift back to its normal color.

"Sorry for the sudden drop, but you looked like you needed a breather," Chimchar explained.

Pikachu huffed playfully. "What took you?"

"Figured I should take care of Zel first, seeing as you looked like you had everything under control."

"So what's the plan?" Turtwig interjected, nervously eyeing the spikes that had fallen into the hole with them.

"He's right. First off, where's everyone?" Pikachu asked.

"I dug Zel his own trench but he can't fit through the tunnel network I've made. Whatever we're gonna do, he's gonna have to do it from there and one of us will have to relay it to him. I honestly don't know where Rave is but last I saw he might be behind those blue guys."

"How many more tunnels can you make?" Piplup asked.

Chimchar's eyes lowered to the ground. "Making this entire network on such short notice took a lot out of me. Normally, the ground moves aside really easily. But after making larger trenches for you guys and Zel…" The fire starter placed his hands on the ground for emphasis, managing to make a few granules move and nothing more.

"Got any tunnels underneath those new guys?"

"Not sure. I'd have to check," the fire chimp said as he climbed up to the edge of the trench for a quick peek. The instant the tuft of fur on his head appeared above the surface of the trench several spikes carved across the soil and embedded themselves into the wall behind them.

"Looks like they're watching us closely," Piplup dryly commented.

Chimchar hopped back down from the wall and felt the area where one spike nearly had nearly shaved him.

"We'd need to lure them into where one of my tunnels are."

Pikachu's ears twitched and he closed his eyes. "The Omastar are moving toward us. It's slow, but they're moving."

"I'll go tell Buizel, try and come up with a plan while I'm gone," the grass turtle said before vanishing into the tunnel.

"Couldn't…" Pachirisu started then stopped, scowling at the ground as if a foul taste had entered his mouth.

"Couldn't what?" Turtwig asked, emerging back out of the tunnel.

"You." Pachirisu's eyes flitted over to his Kantonian counterpart. "This could be over if you just—"

"Don't!" Buneary exclaimed, taking a step towards him.

"Why! He's already done it once! This time he'll at least be saving someone!"

Pikachu winced and looked away until Piplup stepped forward.

"Cut it out, Pach! I'll be the first to admit I was angry and I wasn't thinking. Pikachu's our friend and Buneary's right. You're electric too, so why don't you do it?"

"I…I'm not as strong as him, okay!" A rosy hue colored the bridge of his nose as he spoke.

"Can someone please tell me what exactly we're talking about?" Chimchar's expression switched switching from concern to anger.

"I…Ambi's…" Pikachu struggled to get the words out, until Buneary's paw encompassed his.

"Now's not the time," she said. "We'll talk about this later."

"So what's the plan?" Turtwig asked question as he emerged from the tunnels, keeping his distance from Chimchar's flaming backside.

"We don—" the fire starter started to say until Pikachu cut him off.

"I'll do it," he said grimly. Everyone within the trench became deathly silent.

"Wait, you don't have to-"

"I do, Bun. He's right. I can keep our friends from being hurt if I do it. But I won't be able to do it alone. I'm gonna need your help, Pip."

There wasn't a second of hesitation when Piplup nodded and replied. "What do you need?"

* * *

Things had gotten quiet but far too much time had passed without seeing their pokémon for the battle to be over. New opposition had appeared as soon as the Kabutops had been dealt with. The ground between them and the battlefield had been littered with spikes, sticking out the ground at odd angles from their landing. None of them had so much as even grazed the ship seeing as it wasn't the target for the time being.

That would be subject to change once the Omastar got closer and more curious as to what was inside the out-of-place giant metal tube. Brock had moved over to the copilot's seat, the holes in the fuselage no longer providing a good vantage point when the events shifted more towards the front of the ship. The sudden shift of the sliding door behind him made him flinch. He was about to shush the person when he realized it was Jessie and said nothing to her, seeing as it was her ship after all.

"You've been gone for a while, the twerps asked me to check on you" she whispered, making herself comfortable on the pilot's chair. "So what's happening? Did we win?"

"Not yet. First it was Kabutops, now its Omastar but they're still out there and they haven't started making a big move forward. There's some holes in the ground and I think our pokémon are hiding in there," Brock whispered back.

"What's all of that on the ground?" Jessie motioned towards battlefield where brown shapes lay amidst the blue splattered gray stone.

"I think that used to be the Kabutops that Meowth warned us about," Brock replied darkly.

"Oh…" Jessie's nascent sentence died and she slowly leaned back into her seat looking back at the scene with newfound understanding.

"Wait, something's happening now," Brock muttered under his breath, watching a cone of swirling water rise out of one of the larger holes.

* * *

Pikachu watched Piplup's Whirlpool attack increase in size until it towered over them, making the air heavy and dense with moisture. Droplets of water rained over them as the Omastar fired at Piplup's attack, punching out chunks of water from the vortex.

"I can make it bigger," Piplup said as he lifted the aquatic cone that floated between his wings over his head.

"No, that's fine. Just get ready to throw it. Turtwig, let Zel and Buneary know we're ready," Pikachu said.

The grass starter nodded and disappeared into the tunnels. After a few seconds Pikachu gave the water starter the okay. Piplup swing his wings, launching the water tornado towards the Omastar.

More spikes zipped overhead, trying break apart the liquid twister but it continued on its inexorable path. Pikachu waited until the whirlpool was well out of sight before he gave Pachirisu the signal.

The electric squirrel swung his tail, sending out a river of stars into the sky. While deadly, without a direct line of sight, Pachirisu's Swift attack had no way of homing on the Omastar. Buizel burst out from his trench with a swirling ball of water between his paws the second he saw the stars in the sky from his hole.

Buizel smiled, noting that the Omastar were completely focused on the stars spinning harmlessly into the air. Others were focused on the impending whirlpool slowly making its way towards them. To further sow confusion, Buneary, Chimchar and Turtwig leapt out from their cover and attacked.

With so many other things to focus on they didn't notice when Buizel launched his Water Pulse until it was too late. The sphere of aquatic aura soared across the battlefield and slammed into the whirlpool to cause a massive watery explosion, drenching the Omastar. Buizel watched Pikachu leap into the air just as he and the others dove back down into their trenches.

Pikachu glanced back, making sure that Piplup was in the tunnels before he went through his part of the plan. The Omastar were soaked with the water from Piplup and Buizel's joint attack — the perfect setting for his follow-up strike.

"_I'm going to kill again. I'm going to kill them. If I don't then they'll hurt and kill the others_." Those words went through Pikachu's head like a mantra as time began to slow to a crawl once more. Despite his best efforts, doubt began to creep out from the dark corners of his mind and weaken what little resolve he had mustered. "_What if the others aren't deep enough in the tunnels?_"

One of the Omastar took notice of him now that the others had disappeared, the lowermost horn on its shell glowing white and elongating.

"_What if there's water in the tunnels?_"

More Omastar were starting to notice him, letting the aura in the bodies build into their horns as they took aim.

_"I know I told Pachi to stay but what if he's not immune_?"

The first spike speared through the air just as the first sparks burst from Pikachu's cheeks. The electric starter twisted his body, angling himself just enough to dodge the worst of the attack as it passed him and left a crimson line across his stomach. Pikachu could only stare as the other Omastar lined up their next shots.

"_Come on. You can do this. It was your plan. All you need to do is finish it. One bolt and it's done. They're depending on you. You told them you could do this. You did it to someone you care about, so why can't you do it to pokémon you don't even know? Pokémon who want to hurt and kill those closest to you! Just do it!_"

Pikachu built the aura into his cheeks like every other time he had ever done it. Just like he had done for all the years of his life even before he had known Ash and participated in battles. It was something natural. As effortless as speaking. Yet, the moment he tried to unleash his element, his body seized up while images of Ambipom flitting through his mind.

"_I…I can't do it_." Pikachu came to the grim realization as he started to feel gravity pull him back to the trench.

A column of fire washed over the Omastar from the side. Water flashed into steam, producing a white veil that hid the gruesome fate of the Omastar. Their screaming was soon drowned out by the roar and crackle of burning gas that soon reduced them to burnt lumps of charcoal. The blaze lasted less than a minute but any of the pokémon there could've sworn that the attack had lasted much longer.

Pikachu landed beside his Sinnohvian counterpart who could only stare at him in confusion.

"What happened? Are they…gone?" Pachirisu asked.

Ash's starter could do nothing but avert his eyes and nod slowly.

"But I didn't see-you didn't do any—I mean it didn't look like you attacked."

The electric mouse shook his head, feeling relieved, exhausted, disgusted, worried and confused all at the same time.

"Who got them? It sounded like fire. You think Chimchar—"

A shadow darted over them, putting both of them on alert until they looked up and saw that it was one of their own.

"It looks like we might have a friend." Staravia's statement was quickly followed by a tremor that shook the earth around them. Pikachu and Pachirisu leapt out of the trench, seeing their teammates already out there with them, unnerved by this new supposed ally. Every tremor seemed to also shake their hope in this new mysterious ally, wondering what they might possibly encounter.

A glossy blue dome surrounded by white spikes was the first sight to peek out beyond the rock face. A single crimson eye and a body covered in stony gray and blue plates soon followed. Upon seeing them the eye widened and a small smile stretched upon its face.

"I did not expect to see all of you again. Roark will be pleased," the Rampardos said, his voice a low rumble. He continued forward, heedless of the blackened corpses of the Omastar he was crushing into soot beneath his feet.

"No way!" Turtwig exhaled and relaxed, earning him a look from Buizel

"You know him?" Buizel asked.

"Rampardos? Yeah I know him."

"Friend?" the water weasel whispered hopefully.

"Wouldn't go that far."

"Rival?" he offered.

"Not really. I met him in a gym battle. Threw him through some boulders," Turtwig replied proudly.

Buizel studied the pokémon's massive bulk before the grass starter's words finally registered. "Wait, you _what_!? How?"

"By his tail," Turtwig started until he realized that the statement alone wasn't enough to diffuse his teammate' confusion. "With my mouth. S'not like I was gonna do it with my legs." He wiggled the stubby appendage for emphasis.

Buizel couldn't help but feel a newfound respect for the grass turtle, at least until the sound of footsteps got his attention. A red mining helmet poked out from the cover of the stone. Cautious maroon eyes behind black rimmed glasses scanned the field ahead. Pikachu was the first to recognize the scent and called out to their newest guest.

"I can't believe it!" Roark sighed and moved towards the party. "You're Ash's pokémon, right?"

Half the group unanimously cried out in affirmation.

"Are they still here?" he asked.

Pikachu nodded and started bounding over to where the ship was, the other pokémon following his lead.

Roark took a few steps before stopping and reaching for one of his pokéballs on his belt. With a flash, the stony form of his Onix, coiled and ready to strike at the first sign of danger, came into view.

"Set up some Stealth Rocks and go underground. You and Rampardos will hold this area until I get back," Roark ordered. He received gentle nods in response.

Whatever happiness Roark had gained at the chance of seeing other survivors was leeched away when he turned to follow their pokémon. Bodies burnt, eviscerated and mangled in truly disturbing ways littered the ground; the adorable pokémon responsible for the massacre hopped around the corpses, paying them as much mind as they would any of the stones in the quarry.

Roark forced himself to breathe through his mouth as to not gag at the smell of the carnage that still lingered in the air. He forced a leg forward, then another, doing his best to avoid stepping on the blue viscera that glistened in the sunlight. Eventually, he came to a point where moving forward and avoiding the puddles of blood became impossible. Nevertheless, he moved onward, hoping the sand and stony ground would scrub the stains from his boots.

"_I should be happy these monsters are gone. But can I really call them 'monsters'? These are the fossils I spoke to. The fossils I helped bring into this world_."

A tiny chill ran down his spine the moment he left the battlefield. Dozens of little blue paw prints, of all shapes and sizes, accompanied his own footprints. While the pokémon were now out of sight, he could still follow the trail they had left behind for him.

Follow and reconsider his definition of monsters.

* * *

**Fun Fact: Kabuto are based off of Horshoe crabs with have copper based blood as opposed to iron based blood that we have. As a result their blood is the color blue, something that thought could carry over through Kabuto's evolution into Kabutops. **

**Fun Fact: For those of you wondering what the marks on Ash, Dawn, and Brock are, they're Lichtenberg scars/figures. These markings can appear at times when someone happens to be fairly close to an area where lightning strikes. Feel free to look it up on google. **

**Fun Fact: Nobodieshiiro and Agent of Chaos 112 have recently released their latest chapters. Give it a look and let them know your thoughts if you have time. **


	7. You Say Goodbye, and I Say Hello

**Thanks to Zarrelion for the help on the chapter.**

* * *

The moment Brock told them that their pokémon were on their way back, Ash practically flew towards the doors. Dawn beat him to it, flung the doors open and hopped out of the aircraft. Ash, while excited to see his pokémon back, kept his distance from Dawn, unsure of where he now stood with her.

Dawn mentally counted her pokémon as they came in. She sighed with relief when all of them were accounted for. Pikachu brought up the rear but kept his distance from the rest of the group. The moment his gaze connected with Dawn's, his ears dropped along with his tail, knowing now why she was giving him such a reproachful gaze. Ash walked over and tried to pick up his starter only to grab the empty air when Pikachu dodged the attempted embrace.

"Pikachu…what's—" Ash started until he saw another figure enter their midst. Neither of them could quite believe who they were seeing, but couldn't help but let a smile stretch across their faces.

"Ash," Roark said, having not seen this particular trainer's face for months but never forgetting everything that he and his friends had done for the town.

"Roark," the trainer called back, Pikachu's aversion to his touch momentarily forgotten.

Dawn's steely gaze melted at the sight of a familiar face and she didn't even bother to hide her smile.

"Brock, come outside! It's Roark!" Dawn cried out, coaxing the breeder's head out of the aircraft's interior.

"Roark!" The breeder chuckled and ran over to his fellow gym leader with Happiny in tow.

"I never thought I would see you guys here of all places," Roark replied.

"We never thought we'd wind up here either," James called out innocently as he exited the aircraft.

Roark immediately tensed up and backed away, his hand hovering over the remaining pokéball on his belt. "What's going on?" he growled.

"Roark, hold on. Let me explain," Brock interjected.

Roark kept his gaze trained on Jessie and James, his hand still held over his last pokéball. He was quiet for a few seconds before he nodded, his eyes never leaving the Team Rocket duo.

It wasn't hard to understand Roark's apprehension towards this duo, given their history with him and his father.

"We were on our way to Hearthome when our pokémon started going crazy. Team Rocket had the same problem which is how we found them in the first place. I treated their pokémon and they offered to give us a ride to the nearest pokémon center.

Brock took a breath as he recalled the nightmarish carnage in Hearthome City. "We went to Hearthome and it was overrun with Muk and Grimer, doing basically what the pokémon here are doing. Jessie and James agreed to take us to Twinleaf; we were on our way there until an Aerodactyl attacked us and forced us to land."

"The Aerodactyl's last attack punched a hole in the fuel line. I'm repairing it right now and we can be out of here within the hour," James added, heading over to the back of the aircraft to do just that.

Everything inside Brock screamed at him to extend the invitation to Roark, but he knew it wasn't his offer to make.

"He can come with us…" Jessie announced aloud, as if reading his mind. "…But only if it's just him," she added.

"Jessie" Ash spoke up. "Couldn't we try and find some survivors?"

The Team Rocket operative whirled on the boy, her eyes like smoldering coals as she glared at him. "This—" she jabbed her finger at the tilt-rotor aircraft "— is not a cruise ship! Nor is it a rescue helicopter! We agreed to take you and your twerp friend to the coast and you two to Kanto, not to save every person we see on the way. One more person won't affect the ship, but if we start bringing more people and those people want us to bring even more people…then where does it end? We don't have unlimited space or fuel.

"As soon as James is done with the repairs, we're out of here. If you think you can go out there, play hero, and make it back here in time before we leave then be my guest. This is ship is Team Rocket property and we are the only people that know how to fly it safely. You don't like our rules, Oreburgh is that way," Jessie concluded, thrusting her finger beyond the quarry.

No one said anything for a while — not even Ash — as Jessie stomped back into the cockpit. Brock watched Ash's shoulders slump in defeat, knowing that any rebuttal he offered would end the same as the last time.

Roark's arms hung lifelessly at his sides, the pokéball on his belt now forgotten.

"Roark…I—" Brock began.

"—I…I just need some time to…" Roark's voice trailed off as he walked away and disappeared into the quarry. It was one thing for an outsider to want to save the people of a city; it was another thing entirely for that city's gym leader. Ash moved to follow him until he felt Brock's grip on his shoulder and turned to see him shake his head slowly.

"We're not gonna just leave him here, are we?" Ash asked.

"We can't force him to come with us. If he wants to stay, then we have to respect that," Brock replied.

"So you're fine with leaving him to…" Ash tried but couldn't finish the sentence…not at least with Dawn still around.

"Ash, this is his home. As a gym leader, you become an important part of the community. Every place is different, but for some towns or cities that title can be loaded with more responsibilities than you'd expect. Some gym leaders can double as mayors or some other form of community leader. You become responsible for more than just a passing trainer trying to get a badge. Leaving all of that behind isn't something that can be done easily. Especially if it's also where you call home and where you have family." Phantoms of his tumultuous past with his father and mother lurked behind each of Brock's words.

Ash twisted out of Brock's reach and stormed past him towards the aircraft. Brock stood by and watched, noticing that something — besides all the obvious issues — about Ash felt off. It took Brock a few seconds to realize what was bothering him. But it wasn't until he looked at Dawn heading back as well that the realization came to him.

"_Where's Pikachu_?"

* * *

"_What was that_?!" Pikachu hissed mentally, his fingers flexing in and out of a fist. Pikachu's' focus was on the stone wall a little ways off from the battlefield and the aircraft, for he wanted some privacy for what he was trying to do. An "X", carved into the rock from his Iron Tail, marked the spot where he was aiming for.

Despite all his efforts, Pikachu quickly found that he couldn't produce an electrical attack. He had tried unleashing it through anger, through fear and even through happiness. But it was all for naught; not even spark had left his cheeks. All his other abilities, like making his tail as hard as iron or moving with a sudden burst of speed, were left intact. Anything regarding his natural element felt impossible to produce.

"What are you doing here?"

Pikachu flinched at the unexpected voice and spun around to find Buneary moving towards him. He was about to tell her to stay away, that being near him was dangerous, until he remembered that the "X" he had made remained unmarred. She was in no danger as long as his lightning was gone. But then again, so were his enemies.

"Nothing really," Pikachu said with a sigh.

"Why did you leave?" /Buneary asked.

"I needed to try something."

Buneary eyed the marking on the wall behind Pikachu. "Did you find what you needed? Am I intruding?"

"No. You're fine," Pikachu added quickly as he scratched the fur behind his ear. "How did you find me?"

"You didn't exactly leave the quarry," Buneary said with a snort, "I also happen to be very familiar with your scent."

Pikachu wasn't sure if he should be flattered or concerned about the last statement. Buneary had never been very subtle with her attraction to him. Everyone knew it but said nothing as this was something between the two of them.

"Are Ash and the others looking for me?" he asked.

"Your trainer seems upset about something else and hasn't noticed that you're gone. Your teammates are gloating about the last battle."

"Gloating?"

"Quite a few of them are talking about how they feel more powerful than usual. How easy the last battle was. It doesn't seem like any of them took any damage, even when we were pinned by the Omastar," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Bun, we killed them." Pikachu's tone was serious and cold, "The Kabutops," he reiterated, "When we were done, they didn't even look like a pokémon any more. They were burnt and frozen to death."

"They were attacking us. It was our lives and the lives of Dawn and the others versus theirs. If I had to I would do it again and as many times as I would need to. For Dawn, you, and my team," Buneary replied, her eyes holding an intensity that almost frightened the electric mouse. "Isn't it the same for you? I know you would do anything for Ash."

"I would, it's just…" Pikachu trailed off and looked at the carving on the quarry wall.

"It's what? What's wrong?"

Pikachu sighed. "Can you keep a secret?"

Buneary nodded rapidly, clasping her paws together so tightly Pikachu could've sworn that they had fused.

"I'm out here because…I…I can't…I was trying to use my electric attacks and I can't do it. I can't get a single bolt out of my body."

Buneary threw him a quizzical look. "But your plan? The Omastar?"

"I was lucky. Roark's Rampardos attacked them in my stead. When it was my time to actually hit them, I…I couldn't do it. Even when they fired spikes at me, even when I thought of what they might do to all of you, I wasn't able to. If it weren't for Rampardos…I don't think I would've come out of that alive." Pikachu motioned to the streak of reddish fur along his midsection where one of the spikes had grazed him.

Her paw reached out to him but stopped just short and pulled away. "Does it hurt?"

"It just looks bad but I think it's all healed now," he replied back, hoping to assuage her concerns. "Please don't let the others know about this yet."

Buneary's gaze lifted from his wounds and up to his eyes, giving him a quiet nod. "I promise I won't say anything to the others but you should let them know at some point. They still think you're the one that set the Omastar on fire. Could it be that you're out of electricity? I don't remember much from last night but I do remember you releasing a lot of power. Maybe Pach could recharge you?"

"I don't feel like I'm out. I can still feel it there…I just can't reach it. Every time I try I see Ambi and…" Pikachu trailed off.

A thoughtful look crossed Buneary's face as she waited to see if Pikachu was going to continue. When he didn't she grabbed his paw and gave a gentle tug as she started walking back to the aircraft.

"I can't say that I knew Ambi for as long and as well as you," she said. "But I'd like to think that she wouldn't want this horrible accident to get in the way of your safety. I won't tell you to get over it. That's going to take time."

"That's something we don't have!" Pikachu exclaimed. "What if we get attacked again and we lose someone else because I couldn't end the battle with one of my bolts?"

He clenched his paw. "I'll just have to work harder then…for the both of us. I will not let something like that happen again!"

She smiled and grabbed his paw. "Let's head back before they start getting worried about us."

Pikachu gave no reply and obeyed. As they walked Pikachu couldn't help but notice that Buneary moved with a small but definite spring in her step. He couldn't imagine what she could possibly be happy about until her paw squeezed his.

"_Having her around is nice. I mean, she's always been like this around me, but…_" A darker thought quickly entered his mind. "_Would that change if she knew I couldn't return those feelings? Do I even like her that way?_" Ash's starter gave a quick covert scan from the tops of her ears to her toes. Certainly the idea of being more intimate with her had crossed his mind. Pikachu was just careful, not blind.

The fact that she wasn't a female Pikachu wasn't the factor that dissuaded him. What did dissuade him was the lack of privacy and time. Pikachu spent most of his waking hours with Ash. Likewise, Buneary was kept in the confines of her pokéball unless battles or coordinating practice came up.

If he was honest with himself the reason he hadn't really tried anything with her was actually because of Dawn. To deepen their relationship beyond friendship and then to have Ash and Dawn part ways as their paths took them to different parts of the world didn't appeal to him. He also wasn't sure what mating was like amongst her kind. Was something of a lifelong commitment or something more open-ended?

Ultimately Pikachu hadn't given those types of relationships much thought. There was always the next battle; the next gym and league. Once Ash became a pokémon master they could settle down somewhere and he could consider that type of thing. With these new developments, Pikachu couldn't help but wonder whether battles would even be possible for him anymore.

"_There's nothing I can do about that now. She's right, I just need to wait and see what happens. Hopefully things can go back to normal again_." Pikachu's thoughts were interrupted by the sobering realization that the hopes of that happening were next to impossible. Even if he could access his electricity again and it was normal instead of lethal, Ambipom would still be gone.

"We're here," Buneary said, having guessed he was lost in his own thoughts. Pikachu looked up and noticed that she was right. He saw the aircraft and noted the distinct scents of their teammates and human companions.

"I guess this is where we part ways. I don't think your team is ready to see me yet," Pikachu said as he pulled his paw away from Buneary's. While subtle, Buneary seemed to deflate at the lack of physical contact with him.

"They've gone from being angry at you to being confused as to how they feel about you," she said.

"I guess I should consider it an improvement. Hopefully they'll come around."

"They better," Buneary said beneath her breath.

"I'm gonna go check on Ash and make sure he's okay. You gonna be all right?"

"Yeah—" she exhaled "—Go ahead and make sure he's okay."

"Thanks, Bun," he said as he bounded towards the aircraft.

* * *

Roark returned well before James finished making the repairs to Giovanni's personal transport. The dust that caked his face was broken by streaks of clean skin that trailed from his bloodshot eyes. Blood dripped past his trembling fingertips as he walked, his ankles and forearms covered with the white dust from the quarry. Without a word, he slipped into the aircraft and sat down, staring blankly into his lap until James entered the interior. With the final call everyone returned their pokémon back to their pokeballs and boarded the aircraft.

True to their word, Team Rocket started the engines moments after everyone was seated. The propellers whirred to life, scattering the sand and stones as the tilt-rotor took off. Throughout the entire ascent Roark had moved by the window, remaining inert as he watched Oreburgh grow more and more distant as the seconds passed.

No one moved to comfort him, knowing that there was nothing they could say to mitigate the pain he was feeling. Their flight went on in relative silence, the roar of the rotor blades taking the place of conversation. Jessie, James and Meowth stayed in the cockpit and did their best to stay there. Hours passed and the sun began to make its descent into the ever distant horizon.

In such a small ship there was little to no privacy. The roaring of the rotors and the rushing wind eliminated any possibility for trying to speak in a whisper. Any conversation that took place would have everyone — save the Rocket trio — as an audience. As such, Ash kept his interactions with Pikachu subtle and brief. Pikachu didn't take it personally and even joined Ash whenever his eyes would dart over to Dawn's corner to see if she noticed them.

Both of them understood that their interactions were like salt in Dawn's wounds. On one hand, Ash had to be empathetic to Dawn's feelings about the loss of their shared pokémon. On the other, Ash refused to outwardly chastise Pikachu for what was clearly an accident.

"You know what happened then?" Ash whispered amidst the cacophonous noise. The whisper was still easily picked up by Pikachu's sensitive hearing. His starter nodded and glanced briefly in Dawn's direction before his eyes, ears and tail lowered to the ground. Ash reached out and gently scratched the back of Pikachu's shoulder and neck, sending him a look of understanding.

Unbeknownst to them Brock watched the entire thing from his seat. As far as the others knew, he was asleep — and had been that way only an hour after takeoff. From his corner of the ship he could keep an eye on everyone with no one being the wiser thanks to the shape of his eyes. Even after all these years it still fascinated him to see the depth of their understanding of one another without the need for words.

"_It's not your fault_," Ash's eyes seemed to say.

Pikachu's ears lifted slightly before dropping once more with the slight shake of his head.

"_It is._"

Ash's thumb moved back and forth across his starter's fur.

"_It's gonna be okay._"

A yellow eyebrow arched somewhat.

"_You sure?_"

A slight nod and the flash of his signature smile.

"Yeah."

Pikachu gave his own smile and lifted his ears and tail before shifting his gaze briefly to the right and reconnecting his gaze to Ash.

"_What about her?_"

Ash glanced at Dawn for a few seconds and released a breath through his nose.

"_I'll figure something out._"

Pikachu nodded and moved away, leaving Ash to his thoughts.

Brock watched with interest as Ash's brow furrowed and he bit the inside of his cheek. One hand cradled his chin; the other cradled his elbow as he sat cross-legged in his corner of the room. For once, Ash was actually planning out a slow and deliberate approach to broaching the topic with Dawn as opposed to his usual strategy of tackling his obstacles into submission. Brock didn't envy his friend's position, seeing how it was like maneuvering a verbal minefield.

Dawn was in a delicate state. The mere mention of certain words like Ambipom or Pikachu could radically change her feelings during the conversation. The challenge was in the arrangement of the words he said to her. And the most importantly the tone of his voice when he said certain words. Ash's words could be the most sincere had ever been in his life. But if Dawn didn't feel that sincerity from him, it could have the completely opposite effect.

While Brock's track record with the ladies wasn't the greatest, he liked to think of himself as being pretty knowledgeable about women and their inner workings. That wasn't to say that he knew everything there was to know about girls. His extensive knowledge tended to be thrown out the window and traded for love goggles whenever attractive women came his way. Yet when he wasn't drooling over them up close, he studied them from a distance and learned certain signs. Years of traveling with Misty had taught him a lot of things that watching his little sisters grow up in their formative years had not. Thinking about the girls in his life made him hope all the more that he was wrong about his worries.

"_We thought it was just a local issue, and now it's regional! What are we gonna do if it's global? I hope I'm wrong, but Giovanni's recall of all of Team Rocket can't just be a coincidence. Or maybe, if he started it, then Kanto is being spared all this slaughter and destruction. It's awful, but I can't help but hope that the rest of the world is crazy and Kanto was spared_."

* * *

The skies were on the cusp of twilight by the time they reached Twinleaf Town. A mountain range crowned the horizon from all sides — save the route to Sandgem — with the wide expanse of forest nestled at its base. It was a small town; far enough away from suburbia to enjoy the rural feel of the outdoors. Brock had expected another scene of chaos but was pleasantly surprised to see Twinleaf remained calm and scenic.

Ash couldn't help but feel a wave of relief at the sight of it all. If Dawn's hometown was safe, then it was possible that Pallet Town was just as untouched by the horrors he'd seen in the rest of the region. Dawn had slipped into the cockpit earlier and described her home to the Rocket trio so that they knew where to land. Brock took some small comfort in the lights that filtered out of the windows of each house.

That all seemed to shatter when Dawn audibly gasped and clamped her hand over her mouth, tears already beginning to flow over her fingers. It wasn't until they moved to the other windows that they understood. While the second floor remained untouched, several holes had been punched through one of the rooms on the second floor. Brock quickly moved in and embraced Dawn from behind.

Hot red anger surged through his veins, despair and helplessness leaving him rigid where he stood. "_She doesn't need this right now_," was all that came to his mind, the phrase repeating itself over and over in his head.

Johanna's bed of exotic lilies rippled beneath the walls of wind sent by the aircraft as it maneuvered around the two-story house. In the quiet pastoral town, the sound of their aircraft did not go unnoticed; several people left their homes to see what all the noise was about, Johanna included. The moment the wheels touched soil, Dawn rushed over to the door and practically tried to tear it off its hinges.

Ash blinked and nearly missed Dawn as she closed the gap between her and her mother with a mad dash. Brock was worried that Dawn might fall onto her face from the way she ran, but she managed to keep her balance and slowed down just enough to not tackle Johanna to the ground. No one could hear the girl's cries beneath the roar of the spinning rotor blades until they fully started to die down.

Watching them embrace was equal parts touching and heart-wrenching at the same time when they thought of their own mothers.

"We're gonna make sure dis ting's ready ta fly again, so go on witout us," Meowth said through the holes in the door to the cockpit. Brock hopped out without much prompting, wanting nothing more than to feel the sweet earth beneath his feet after so many hours in the air.

Johanna lifted her gaze from her daughter's head to meet Brock and Ash with a searching look that asked them why her daughter was crying her eyes out. Her eyes shifted to see Roark lingering behind them but keeping his distance.

"Let's talk inside."

* * *

Despite having been invited into their home, Ash and the others couldn't help but feel like they were intruding. Ash and Roark quietly sat across from each other at the dining table while Brock stood behind them and stared at the cabinets, Happiny quietly cradled in his arms. Half an hour had gone by since Johanna had told them to make themselves at home and disappeared into the second floor to be with her daughter.

Occasionally her cries made their way down the stairs and into their area, sounding louder in the void of their conversation. Roark twitched and winced with every cry, his eyes darting towards the windows and the shadows in the room. A good part of Roark was still back in his city, where every scream had meant the end of someone's life and the danger of being close to the one that took it. Even though they were hundreds of miles away from the city; even though everything for several miles looked peaceful and friendly, the things he had gone through would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Brock, what're you doing?" Ash asked, hoping some semblance of conversation will dampen some of the noise.

"I know Dawn's mother said to make ourselves at home, and I was thinking we should grab something to eat since he haven't really had anything all day," he replied.

"I'm not really hungry, Brock."

"Neither am I, but we should still eat something. But I just don't feel right rifling through her cabinets. I don't even know if she has any extra food she can spare."

Roark abruptly pushed himself from the table and started making his way towards the door.

"Roark, where are you going?" Ash called out as he got out of his seat to follow.

"I need to be outside." Roark then carefully shut the door behind him.

"Ash, stay here in case Dawn's mom comes down. I just wanna check on him and make sure he's gonna be okay. I won't be long," Brock said as he moved from his position by the cabinets.

Ash was going to argue until he stopped himself and nodded, sitting back down in the chair.

Brock closed the door behind him just as carefully as Roark did, but in the pervading silence that hung over the living room he might as well have slammed it.

* * *

Roark wasn't far from the house, standing at the edge of Johanna's flower gardens and reaching for his belt.

"What—" Brock began, pausing for an instant before he kept going.

"_What's wrong? You know exactly what's wrong? That's the dumbest question you can ask him right now. What can you do to help would be better. Except you already know the answer to that. Nothing. Nothing I say to him will make what's he's gone through any easier. Was I wrong to follow him out here? Should I leave him alone?_" Brock's gaze drifted lower and noted where Roark's fingers were.

"—are you doing?" Brock finished, noting how Roark's hand froze just above his pokéballs.

"I'm bringing Onix out so that he can set up some Stealth Rocks around Dawn's house," Roark replied.

"Why?"

Roark whipped around so violently that Brock stepped away from him despite there being several feet between them. So many emotions fought for dominance on Roark's face, with disbelief and rage being the most prominent.

"Why?!" Roark roared. "Because they are still out there!" Oreburgh's gym leader thrust a shaking finger towards the world around the setting sun.

"Roark, the prehistoric pokémon you fought are miles away from here I don't think they would've fo—"

"I'm not talking about those pokémon! I'm talking about the ones that live in the woods, in the mountains all around us." The Oreburgh gym leader swept his arms out as if to encompass the whole area.

"Roark, I don't think the pokémon here wo—"

"—And I didn't think my mother would be dead by the end of the morning!" Roark's body shuddered with a nearly explosive rage.

The revelation slammed into Brock, stripping the warmth from his bones and stealing the last words from his thoughts. Happiny's eyes were starting to brim with tears until Brock rocked her gently and wiped some away with his free hand. "Roark…I'm so…I didn't know…"

"Don't tell me that the pokémon of this area won't try to do the same. I thought it was just my city, but then you and your friends come in and tell me that you saw the same thing happen to Hearthome. That's practically the center of Sinnoh and Oreburgh is near the coast, so if my city felt whatever is happening to the region, then what's to stop it happening here?"

"Rural areas like this don't have powerful pokémon. A lot of the ones that live in this area are probably timi—"

"They already outnumber us. And it takes only one of them to realize that they are more powerful than us." Roark looked at the surrounding forests and mountains. Forests and mountains that once seemed so scenic, now took on an ominous aura.

"How can you be sure they're out for blood? We've done nothing to provoke them!" Brock countered.

"You didn't see what I saw in Oreburgh, Brock. The Kabutops that came after you spent hours—" Roark winced and shuddered as the flood of grisly images came flooding back "—gutting every person they could find. A few of them didn't even eat those they killed and that's not even the worse part. I thought about it while we were flying and the more I thought about it, the worse this whole situation seems. They sent soldiers to Oreburgh, Brock."

The edge of mania started to creep into Roark's tone, sending shivers through Brock and Happiny as they heard the gym leader go on. "A small team of soldiers and a tank and all of it…all of it was torn to shreds. Reinforcements never showed. I first thought you guys were the reinforcements but the more I thought about it the more one thing they said to me stood out. I commented on the fact that so few had come and they told me that were all the Sinnohvian National Guard could spare."

Brock felt like his stomach had plummeted down to his feet and a cold hard stone had taken its place.

"I kept thinking about what that meant and the only thing that makes sense to me is that the National Guard is spread too thin," Roark continued, his voice wavering as he fought to keep from having a full breakdown in front of Brock. "Why would that be, unless Hearthome and Oreburgh aren't only places affected, and while this place is safe for now, that doesn't mean that pokémon from those places won't eventually come here. The prehistoric pokémon in Oreburgh will eventually leave when they realize that there aren't enough resources to sustain them. If the soldiers they sent to contain the situation indicate anything, it's that things do not look good for us." Roark punctuated the end of his sentence by releasing his Onix with a flash. Brock said nothing as he ordered the stone snake to set up the hazards.

"What comes after this?" Brock asked quietly.

"What are you talking about?"

"Ash and I are going over to Kanto with Team Rocket. Dawn's probably going to stay here with her mom. You could come with us if you wanted."

Roark said nothing for a few seconds until he turned his gaze towards the northern mountain range. "I'll make my way over to Canalave."

"Do you have family there?" Brock's tone was hopeful until Roark gave a derisive snort at the comment.

"If you can call him that."

"I know what that's like," Brock spoke gently, surprised to find that beyond being a rock gym leader of their region, they shared a connection in the way of having good-for-nothing fathers. It wasn't the best way to connect with someone but it was something they could empathize with one another about. At least that's what Brock had thought.

The result was akin to kicking a Primeape — a volcanic explosion of sound and fury. "Oh do you now!? What could you possibly know about me? How could your life possibly compare to mine!? Did you work your ass off in the quarry and in the mines for years!? Did your dad leave you and your mother to go gallivanting for fossils on an island without so much as a hug or proper goodbye!? How could your struggles even possibly relate to mine!?" Roark had closed in on Brock, punctuating each sentence with a harsh jab to his chest just above Happiny with his finger. Brock kept his stare fixed on Roark; if he registered the physical contact he didn't show it. Slowly, Brock kneeled down and placed Happiny on the floor, gently urging her to keep her distance from him. By the time Brock stood back up Roark couldn't help but feel like the air had gotten heavier.

"Do you have siblings?" Brock asked. The tone was bitter-cold, almost menacing. And it caused Roark's anger to melt away.

"Let's say you have some," Brock continued, "Nine in fact. Which is a lot of kids as far as anyone's concerned, but that's okay because your father and mother who love each other are there. Until your father decides to leave, because he decided he could go be a great pokémon trainer.

"Except he doesn't, he fails and refuses to come home because he's ashamed. Instead, he sells overpriced rocks to ignorant tourists on the outskirts of the city where you live.

"So your dad's not around, which is okay because your mom's there, right? Except she doesn't cook and it isn't long before your mother realizes that being a domestic housewife isn't as fun as exploring the rest of the world. So then she goes off on her adventure. Now you have ten mouths to feed, including your own. So you start having to learn things that your parents could never be bothered to teach you. You cook because otherwise you and your siblings will starve. You clean and learn basic healthcare because you literally can't afford medicine if they get sick. You learn to knit and sew because your siblings are growing up and they either tear or can't fit into their clothes. You can't afford to get them new clothes. Not while you're feeding them, keeping the lights on and keeping a roof over their heads."

Brock's hands flashed forward and grabbed Roark's undershirt. Roark's powerful muscles earned through years of hard labor in the quarries and mines of Oreburgh proved unable to pull Brock's hands away from him. His Onix moved in to intervene until he felt something tug on his tail before his body lurched back across the grassy field. The ground quickly rose up to meet him as a sudden pressure at the top of his head forced him to the earth.

Happiny's incredible feat of strength came as no surprise to Brock, but he was certain that the stone snake was completely thrown off guard.

Brock's gaze drilled into Roark's soul. "Juggling your role as a gym leader and taking care of them takes up the entirety of your life. You don't have time to do anything else. You're the oldest and none of your other siblings are old enough to get their first starter.

"So when one of your parents eventually comes back, you bury every hateful word and murderous urge you've let fester in his absence because you're afraid of giving him any reason to run away again. You take his attempts at trying to assimilate back into your life in stride. They finally decide to start acting like parents and you're finally free to go and see the world and pursue all the dreams you've ever wanted.

"For a while your freedom is more important than any responsibilities that you had before, but it starts to eat at you. Every time you make a meal; every time you flirt with a girl; there's always that fear in the back of your mind of how you've left your siblings — the people you love more than anyone in this world — in terrible hands."

Roark began to feel his feet lift off the ground; Brock's tone was icy-calm but deathly serious. The incoming stony tail didn't seem to register as a threat to Brock's Happiny as she deflected it with her free arm and held it down. Roark's Onix began to struggle until he felt his stony hide begin to crack beneath the pressure of her hold.

And then, the tense atmosphere between the two dissipated slightly. "You're right, Roark. My struggles don't compare to yours. Suffering isn't contest so I won't say whose life was harder." Brock released Roark back onto his feet. The miner stumbled back, checking how stretched his shirt had become before looking back at the breeder.

Whatever anger he'd once held had now simmered. A curt nod from Brock signaled Happiny to release her captive. Roark's Onix rolled away and kept his distance, having learned to not to underestimate the deceptively strong baby pokémon.

"So I guess you do know what it's like. You'd understand then why I need to make it to Canalave and find him. I want him to know about my mother; I need him to feel miserable about what he did to us. It feels like my anger's been the only thing that's kept me from breaking down. It's all that's kept me sane," Roark replied.

"I think you have every right to want that and I understand now why it was so hard for you to leave," Brock added.

Roark's only reply was a nod of his head.

"It made me feel like I was no different than my dad. Abandoning my mother and my job and my city.

"I can't really speak for Roxanne, but the thing about being a rock-type — and it goes for gym leaders of that element too — is shrugging off everything the world throws at us. We're pressured this much because we can take it," Brock said.

He extended his fist. Roark gave a weak smile and bumped fists with him in the classic masculine sign of reconciliation and camaraderie.

"So are you gonna question my actions?" Roark asked.

"No, you made your point. Here's hoping we won't need them tonight. Johanna might be down any minute so I'll be inside." Brock bent down to pick up Happiny before making his way up the steps to the porch.

"Good luck," Roark muttered, not envying Brock's position and staring at the ring of stone spikes that slowly circled around the house.

* * *

The sounds of growls filled the room. Not that it bothered the Rocket trio as they were intimately familiar with the source of the noise.

"Meowth, go see if they can spare any food!" Jessie ordered.

"Why me? Why not wuna youse guys?" Meowth replied.

"We don't know what the twerpette has told her mother about us. You're a pokémon; she might be more lenient on you than us." Jessie went back to inspecting another part of the bulkhead.

"Fine." Meowth's stomach grumbled as if in displeasure of the task he had been given. James pulled the sliding door open for him and closed it as he hopped out. Meowth's gaze went to the moon, hoping that Meowsie wasn't being affected by whatever was happening to the pokémon in Sinnoh. In the midst of his stargazing Meowth began to notice something moving across the sky.

A halo of stones circled around the house. The stones floated lazily beneath the starry night sky. Meowth gulped and took his first hesitant steps towards the house. His muscles tensed as he prepared to dodge the lithic spears should they home in on him. As the seconds and steps passed, Meowth decided that the stones weren't targeting him and were just a precaution for something else.

Muffled voices filtered through the door as Meowth made his way up the steps and onto the porch. From a distance Meowth could see the gym leader they had picked up, issuing orders to his pokémon, answering one of Meowth's earlier questions. He was about to reach for the doorknob when he felt something approach him from both sides.

"Who might you be?" Glameow purred, her eyes looking him up and down.

"We didn't see you with the others," Umbreon added from behind him, the golden rings on her dark fur glowing brightly in the darkness.

"I-I'm wit da guys on da ship," Meowth stammered back, the dark Eeveelution's rings evoking a primal fear within him.

"I can't tell if he's just nervous or lying," Umbreon replied.

"Probably the first one. You know your rings tend to have that effect." Glameow smirked and laid down into a resting position. Umbreon took the hint and nodded, letting the golden glow dim into a soft yellow but keeping her crimson gaze set on the talking cat.

"Why're you standing and speaking like that?"

"I wanted ta walk an' talk like a human so I taught myself how," Meowth replied.

"Let's not hurt this one too bad, Umbri. I think he's amusing." Glameow circled Mewoth as if he were little more than a fancy sculpture.

"What do you want?" Umbreon demanded.

"We were gettin' hungry and well…wanted ta know if dere was grub ta spare," Meowth said.

"Are you or your companions friends with Johanna's daughter?" Glameow's tail had started swishing back and forth.

"I wouldn' say we're friends exactly," Meowth replied, pausing to consider his next words carefully.

"What would you say they are then?" Umbreon prompted a little more forcefully than Glameow would've liked.

"We gave dem a ride ta dis place before we left ta da Kanto Region,"

"See Umbri, be nice. He's a foreigner," Glameow chided, lightly whipping her tail about to tickle Meowth's chin.

"Do you know anything about what's happening? What happened to us?" the Moonlight pokémon asked, her sharp tone diminished somewhat.

"Not much. We went crazy an' attacked everyting'. Did any of you hear a voice in your head when all of dat was happenin'?" Meowth asked.

Glameow's smile dissolved in an instant and her eyes locked with Umbreon's own for a few seconds.

"We also heard a voice," Umbreon said. Her voice noticeably dulled as she spoke.

"But only bits and pieces" Glameow added.

The next few minutes were spent comparing the words they had heard. Little of the mysterious message was revealed and what they had learned failed to help clarify what exactly was being told to them. Soon, the porch became quiet, save for the muffled voices of Johanna and Brock.

"If you need food, now's probably not the best time." Glameow was the first to break the silence.

"Would you mind waiting a minute?" Umbreon asked.

Meowth's growling stomach answered before he could. Glameow stifled a giggle while Umbreon sighed.

"Umbri? Doesn't Cara have a berry patch on the side of her house?" Glameow said.

"She does, but I don't think she would appreciate anyone taking those," Umbreon replied.

"But Umbri look at him," she whined playfully.

Umbreon turned her crimson stare on the other cat. "Yes?"

"I said look, not glare! He's probably starving, and his friends brought Dawn back safely."

Umbreon sighed. "If anyone asks, I heard and saw nothing." She looked to the stars she could see past the porch…and "accidentally" fail to see Meowth raiding Cara's berry patch.

Glameow grinned impishly and motioned towards the home of Johanna's neighbor with her head. Meowth took the hint and started walking. Once he was far enough away, Umbreon made her way back at her old coordinating partner, perched onto the porch railing for a better view.

"Glam, you're not actually into him, right?" Umbreon asked, finding her own comfortable position on the wooden railing.

"My my, is someone worried for little old me?"

Umbreon snorted. "Hardly. I figured your standards were higher, but I guess it's been a while since you've seen another cat type."

Glameow's only response was a pout before she looked away with a scoff and pretended to feel horribly wounded. "I just thought if we were going to interrogate him I could play good cat and you bad cat."

"You know I'm not actually a—"

"Oh hush!" Glameow gently bopped Umbreon's head with her tail. "Look at him go." She motioned with her corkscrew tail towards Meowth, who was greedily swiping the berries and piling them onto his arm.

"He could've been there faster if he were moving on all four legs."

"Being on two legs does seem to have its advantages," Glameow said, noticing how Meowth was able to carry several berries at the same time.

"It's unnatural if you ask m—"

"Hmm?" Glameow immediately noticed her partner's sudden silence. "What is it?"

"He's not alone."

* * *

Meowth had just finished helping himself to the bountiful harvest of oran berries when the stone spikes flew past his shoulder. The angry hisses from behind him nearly made him wet himself from fear. All the berries he'd collected would've fallen out of his paws had the bands of silk that wrapped around him not bound them to his body. His attempts at screams were muffled by adhesive string that had already sealed his lips shut. The ground beneath him became a green blur; Johanna's house growing smaller within seconds until the cover of the woods cast everything he saw into darkness.

* * *

**Fun Fact: Brock's Happiny has been shown to have a ridiculous amount of strength. She can carry Ash's Grotle with relative ease (practically skipping) throughout a city for an extended period of time...with one arm (Episode: Jumping Rocket Ship). The average Grotle weigh around 213.8lbs whereas your average Onix weighs around around 463lbs which isn't a huge leap from Grotle's. Brock's Happiny has also demonstrated that it can pulverize boulders with a Pound attack as well as throw Brock and someone of Dawn's body mass several meters through the air (Episode: Tanks for the Memories). **

**It wasn't until I saw the episode in the Battle Frontier season, Grating Spaces, that I realized how messed up Brock's upbringing was. There's a little segment before the opening starts (35 seconds into the episode) where Ash and Co are heading back to the Pewter City gym and talking about Brock's cooking skills. There's a line Brock says, that while the series completely glosses over because it's a kid's show that doesn't really address dark matters, I find incredibly chilling and quite revealing about Brock's character and his past. It's simple and short but personally had to pause the video and think about Brock's life as a whole. It's something that's been there since the first season and that well all tend to forget when he's being silly around women. **

**On a slightly lighter note, Agent of Chaos 112 has released another chapter of his story the Remembrance if you wanna check that out. **

**Also, if you haven't heard, the next generation of pokemon got unveiled. I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on that in your review if you have time.**


	8. Fly You Fools

**Thanks to Zarrelion for the help on the chapter.**

* * *

The cocoon around him was thick enough that all sensation was blocked out from Meowth as he was dragged through the forest. Even with his enhanced night vision, the speed at which he was traveling rendered the surroundings as little more than an indistinct smear. One thing he did notice was that webs began to coat the branches and then the trees and finally, the ground itself.

Meowth's heart increased its already frantic tattoo as he saw that he was not the only one in the woods. Dozens of cocoons hung from the branches or were strung on silken lines like jerky set out to dry. Some of the cocoons were smaller than his silken prison; others were about his size and then there were even a few that were about as large as Jessie and James.

The more he watched the more he noticed that all the cocoons had one thing in common. The bodies were completely wrapped, save for an open section where a nose or a snout poked out. Some of the cocoons were little more than full-body casts, swaying gently in the air as the captive within struggled feebly against the restraints. Before long, Meowth began to wish that had he too had been fully entombed in silk.

"_Dere keepin' us alive_." He shivered at the thought, afraid to delve deeper into the answer to that question. It was then he became acutely aware that he was slowing down and soon, it was revealed why.

Several Ariados scuttled around him. All Meowth could do was watch and listen.

"What happened to you?" one of the Ariados asked.

"Just when I was about to get this little morsel, a fucking rock comes and hits me!" his captor growled. All Meowth could see was a tapestry of webs. The wound itself and even the number of Ariados remained a mystery to him.

"Were you seen?" another demanded.

"I don't think so." There was a clear note of uncertainty in this one's voice.

"Kailob's gonna be pissed," another Ariados said.

"Kailob ain't gonna know cause none of you are gonna tell him!" his captor snarled.

"Oh yeah? What's in it for me?"

"My next two catches can be yours."

"And how do I know you won't just catch something small?"

"There's only so much you can drain in a day. Being greedy is pointless in the long run," a female Ariados interjected.

"It's not just for me, I got mouths to feed. So whaddya say Kharzouz? Wanna hand over that little morsel you have over there and knock one off your debt?"

Meowth felt Kharzouz move in front him as if to protect him; the irony of the situation was not lost on him. "This one's not for trade. I want to let my meal know how I feel about getting hurt just to get him."

Those words pushed Meowth's bladder past the breaking point. He whimpered as his bladder gave way. The shame of the warm wetness soaking into his fur was overshadowed by the hope that his action had rendered him too disgusting to eat.

If Kharzouz noticed Meowth's accident, the Ariados wasn't bothered or didn't care.

"And you're sure that no one saw you?" another Ariados asked.

"Yes, Ilzbe." Kharzouz groaned. "And let's say I was seen. What would it matter? Even if the humans told the others here, where could they go? The woods? We've already placed our nets there and I'd love to see how far they make it through the woods in the night. They can't tell the humans north of here because we've already taken all of them."

Meowth's eyes widened at the news. The idea that all of Sandgem Town was taken by these pokémon seemed hard to believe at first…but then he saw the dozens of humanoid cocoons that adorned the canopy above him.

"While that might be true, remember that Kailob said it'll be harder to catch the humans if they know about us. They might scatter and we will waste our strength and time trying to get all of them or they'll join forces to make our life even more difficult. That's why we waited while they were asleep and separated! Our strength isn't in defense; it's in numbers and stealth!

"Even with all eighty of us working together, if we're out of the cover of trees and darkness, then all it takes is a few creatures that are stronger than us to beat us! There's no telling if any of the humans have their own creatures that are powerful enough to do that. Need I remind you of the tiny blue bird creature that beat you months ago?" Ilzbe said.

"I do not need a reminder! What I need is to feed!" Kharzouz turned to face his latest catch. Drool oozed off his jittering mandibles and onto the silk as he laid eyes on the morsel. While Meowth couldn't feel any of the saliva through the silk, the sight alone was enough to make his vision start to swim.

"Kailob said we would distribute our catches amon—"

"Kailob this! Kailob that! I grow tired of hearing about Kailob! If you're so in love with him why don't you go mate with him!" Kharzouz snapped. "Let me at least enjoy this one so that I might forget my pain. There's another two humans where I caught this one; they're fat and potentially juicy. If we don't move fast the rest of the swarm will be here and make it harder to get food for ourselves, so get a move on!"

The promise of more food dissolved whatever arguments were brewing amongst the Ariados. Meowth heard them scuttle away and much to his surprise, part of him _wanted_ them to stay. Thoughts of Jessie and James flooded his mind. Memories of all the good times they had together and how all of would be gone soon became his only thoughts. Then, much as he and his team had had done for years after every failure to catch Pikachu; he pushed all thoughts of negativity to the back of his mind and focused his energies on a single goal: getting out of the cocoon.

One of his paws was pressed against his chest and held there by the silk, but his other paw had been bound to his side and faced away from his body. A simple flex of his wrist unsheathed his claws which managed to poke through the material.

The forest began to move again as his captor continued dragging him to another part of the forest. He worked his claws frantically through the silk while the Ariados's focus was elsewhere. Meowth quickly learned that his efforts were being wasted when the pliable silk only stretched as he moved his paw back and forth. Kharzouz was already starting to slow down by the time Meowth switched to the new tactic of repeatedly retracting his claws in and out of his bindings. From where he lay he couldn't help but notice that the amount of webs hanging from the trees had diminished considerably.

"This is my little spot in the woods where I place the meals I don't want to share with the others. It's out of the way, but you'll keep my secret, won't you?" Kharzouz cackled before coming to a complete stop and sighed happily at the sight before him. A dozen cocoons of different shapes and sizes were lined up along the length of the web.

"Now where to place you?" Kharzouz mused aloud, looking back and forth along the length of his web. "You are for tomorrow," he said as he stroked one of the cocoons in the shape of a human female, her nose and ears the only parts of her not wrapped in silk. Muffled screams came through the silk as she writhed in place. Kharzouz paid her no mind as he was already moving to his next captive. It was tiny enough to be a small pokémon or a human infant, but beyond that Meowth couldn't tell what it was beneath the layers and layers of silk.

"You will be for the day after." The Ariados punctuated each word with a jab to the creature's midsection, evoking small whimpers. Kharzouz hushed the poor creature with a sickening tenderness.

"But you." Kharzouz whirled around with surprising speed and leapt onto Meowth's cocoon. "No one has given me as much trouble as you have…so I think I'll have you…" The Ariados posed dramatically, scratched the space beneath his head just behind his mandibles in mock contemplation. "Now!" He gushed at the faux revelation and plunged his fangs through the silk without warning.

* * *

"Back in the quarry, what was Pach talking about?" Chimchar asked, breaking the silence that hung over the group as they ate from their bowls. Pikachu watched the others lift their heads from their bowls and shift their gazes between the two of them. They were outside and behind Dawn's house as the open flame on Chimchar's rear was a significant fire hazard. Brock had laid out several bowls of pokémon food and had released his own team to join in the meal but Dawn's party was once again absent.

"I got that we couldn't talk about it then, but now seems like a decent time," Chimchar added.

Pikachu looked at each of his teammates and knew that Piplup and Buneary weren't here to bail him out this time.

"It's nothing, Chim." Pikachu attempted to sound dismissive about it all but couldn't hide the fact that his response felt rehearsed.

"It's not nothing," the fire chimp insisted, "Who d'you think you're fooling? I can tell something's been eating at you all day. This morning I thought it was how we thought one of us might've hurt Ash, but after what Pach said, I figure it's what you're not telling us, or both. So I'll ask you again. What was Pach talking about when he mentioned Ambi?"

The mention of her name made Pikachu wince and raised Buizel's already obvious interest in the conversation.

"If you can't tell your teammates, who can you tell?" Gliscor added.

Pikachu sighed and dropped the pellet he'd been holding back into the bowl. "When I went over to see Buneary and the others...I… the…the night we started attacking uncontrollably…I was…the lightning…I couldn't control where…and Ambipom…" Whatever walls Pikachu had painstakingly put up to hold in his emotions in now crumbled with every word. Words eventually failed the electric starter, but the gist of what happened had been conveyed. Chimchar immediately felt guilty for digging up what was obviously still a raw and bleeding subject.

"But it was an accident, right?" Buizel calmly asked.

Pikachu nodded, wiping his face with fur on his arms.

"And my old team gets that, right?" Buizel replied, placing an arm on Pikachu's back.

"Kinda" Pikachu sniffled.

"I can go talk with them if you want, set some things straight."

Pikachu's response was to hold up his paw."I appreciate the offer, but I think they need time. Piplup looked like he was coming around, and Buneary understood."

Buizel nodded and moved back to where his bowl was, looking at the window where Dawn's room would be.

"Is this why you haven't been using your lightning attacks?" Staravia asked.

Pikachu flinched but eventually nodded as he stared at the ground. "Every time I try to use my element I see her and I…I can't. I don't want any of you to be hurt or worse because of me."

"Hopefully we won't need that kind of power," Croagunk said, drawing the entire group's attention since they'd forgotten he was even there. "Whatever happened to us and the pokémon we've met might be something limited to just this region. But if it isn't…if we keep finding pokémon like the ones you guys fought, we might just need that kind of power. Now, I'm not sure if it's my ability or my gut. Might even be a bit of both, but something tells me things will get harder from here on out. Between all of us I don't doubt that we could win a fight against any wild pokémon we face. But we have _no_ room for error and we _must _give it our all."

Croagunk then faced the electric mouse. "I get that you can't give it your all right now, Pikachu. You might need time to recover and until then, you'll have to do the best you can without your element. However, you need to know that there's gonna be the risk of some of us getting hurt. Maybe our best won't be good enough and we won't be able to stop someone else from being hurt or worse. It then comes down to which one you're willing to live with: doing your best and it not being enough or always wondering if you could've done more."

* * *

Meowth's muffled screams evoked another chorus of cries from Kharzouz's captives. The Ariados reared his head back and screamed at his future meals. Had Meowth's bladder been full, the sound would have caused him to wet himself. As it were, the scream of an Ariados would be burned into his memories for the rest of his life.

"I'm glad I didn't end up trading you to Tilza; you taste so sweet. Sweeter than any of the other meals I've had today. You might just be worth the damage I took to catch you," Kharzouz said before plunging his mandibles into the opening into the silk again. Meowth squirmed in his cocoon and moaned at the appropriate times.

It had taken Meowth a few seconds to realize that his captor wasn't actually feasting on him. At least not yet. The berries he had been carrying had been wrapped up with him when they had caught him and dragged him into the forest. Thanks to his own body weight and the rough handling by the Ariados, the berries had been reduced to a thick pulp. Meowth could only hope that the Ariados would be sated by the fruit pulp alone.

With the Ariados distracted, Meowth started working on the cut he was making on the side of his cocoon, extending and retracting his claw through the silk. He was starting to make some progress until Kharzouz's mandibles grazed across his chest. His fake screams and halfhearted attempts at writhing in place became very real.

And he had just attracted Kharzouz's attention.

"What's this? Did I hit a nerve?" the Ariados said, his mandibles clicking in what vaguely resembled a smile. His mirth was quickly ended when his head suddenly lifted off his neck and tumbled across the ground. Blood came out in little spurts as the rest of his body slumped over and landed lifelessly on Meowth's cocoon.

"Umbri, I think we're too late," Glameow whispered as she drew closer to the headless corpse. Meowth's howls were quickly joined by Kharzouz's previous victims as they fought for the attention of their apparent saviors.

"He looks pretty lively," Umbreon said. "It looks bad but let's at least see what the damage is and decide whether he's worth the effort to bring back."

"Can you free him, I'd rather not get my paws any dirtier than they need to," Glameow replied, looking at the aforementioned paw with disdain.

"We came here because you wanted to save him. So go ahead and save him," Umbreon snapped, kicking the headless bug's body off the cocoon.

Glameow glowered at the Eeveelution for a moment before moving over to Meowth and lifting her paw. Meowth watched her claws extend before she gently placed her paw atop his silken prison. Faster than his eyes could follow, her paw morphed into a blur and then reappeared back beneath her body.

The silk around his body fell apart into ribbons without so much as a scratch on his body. Meowth leapt out and was about to hug his savior until she raised a paw with her claws extended.

"As much as I appreciate the sentiment, if you stain as much as a single hair on my body I will carve you like the cocoon!" Glameow said. Meowth looked down at himself and immediately understood why. His fur was stained in all sorts of colors from the crushed fruit that had burst within his bindings. Some of the berries were still sticking to him. And of course, he reeked of urine.

"Right, sorry," he replied, plucking some of the berries off his body. "Not dat I'm complainin', but how did ya find me?"

"We followed your scent and the blood trail the Ariados he got from the floating rocks," Umbreon explained.

"Might I suggest we have this lovely conversation elsewhere? It won't be long before the others come back and notice something is off," Glameow said as she turned around and prepared to head out.

"Glam's right, we need to go."

Meowth nodded and started running with them, managing a few steps before he stopped and turned around.

"What are you waiting for?" Umbreon exclaimed. She eventually traced his gaze back to the web of writhing cocoons.

Umbreon nudged Meowth forward with her head. "I know it sucks but we don't have time to help them. It was hard enough as it is to find you and get through here without alerting the Ariados. Staying here any longer than we need to is gonna make it harder to get back to our coordinator and your pilot friends. Bringing more with us is just asking for trouble. So pick, do you want to get caught again or do you want to see your friends?"

Meowth's demeanor changed at the mention of Jessie and James, his paw clenching into a fist as he forced himself to look away and ignore their muffled pleas for help. As they made their way out of the woods, Meowth brooded over the choice he had made. The practical — and callous — side of him knew the ramifications of staying and trying to help the other captives with all its attendant risks and dangers.

He would justify his decision, but he would never be satisfied with the answer. His choice that night would haunt him until the end of his days.

* * *

The dining room was deathly silent as Johanna settled into her seat across the dining table from Brock. Ash had remained in his seat, absently fiddling with his hat while his eyes flitted between the other two. Brock resisted the urge to ask about Dawn's condition, knowing full well that it wouldn't have improved in such a short amount of time. Johanna's eyes carried no anger but they also held no warmth.

"Did she tell you what happened?" Brock asked, testing the waters to know where he stood.

Johanna closed her eyes, one hand cradling the other atop the table. "Not really. I was hoping you two could fill me in," she replied quietly.

"I believe the way it started was the same for everyone. Our pokémon started acting up in the middle of the night," Brock said

"If that's what you want to call it," Ash muttered beneath his breath. Brock shot a brief glance to the boy but held his tongue.

"Ash, Dawn and I managed to get away from our pokémon and we waited until they calmed down. When we went to make sure they were okay, we found that her Ambipom was hit with one of the attacks and it stopped her heart. By the time we had gotten there it was already too late to save her."

Johanna nodded but said nothing.

"The people that brought us here were nearby when that happened. Their pokémon had gone through the same issues and in the chaos their pokémon…killed their pilot and they were forced to land. In such small space, a few of their pokémon died and a lot of them were wounded. I have some medical knowledge of pokémon, so in return for looking over the pokémon that could be saved, they offered us transport to Hearthome. However, when we got there…"

Brock's brow furrowed, his fists clenching into fists against the table. "People were getting…slaughtered by Muk and Grimer." His voice grew tense as finished his description of the events.

Johanna's eyes widened, the intensity of her stare making Ash feel uncomfortable without even being on the opposite end of it.

"We got out of there as soon as we could and at that point Dawn wanted to go home. The people who brought us here need to go to the Kanto region and it was on the way, they agreed to keep taking us. We could've gotten here sooner except our aircraft was attacked by a wild pokémon over Oreburgh City. The pokémon was taken out but we were forced to land to make repairs. And that that is how we met the gym leader, Roark." Brock motioned with his neck towards the door.

Johanna was quiet for some time, her gaze now on the white surface of her dining table. "Something told me there was more going on." She sighed and politely moved away from the table and over to the television.

Brock and Ash remained seated and watched her look around the living room. Eventually she came up with the remote control for the television and pressed the power button. What happened next sent a chill down their spine and cemented the true magnitude of their situation.

Brock and Ash expected voices, music or even the piercing tones of a test pattern. Instead, all they got was dead silence.

They watched Johanna go through the channels. The channel number in the top right of the screen soon began to climb into the triple digits. And all they got was silence and a black screen with two words: no signal.

"I've been losing channels throughout the day. I have several channels that showcase contests being held in Sinnoh, as well as Hoenn, Kanto, and even more recently Johto, but as you can see…" Johanna let her words trail off into silence. "Internet has also been out and when I've tried calling customer service or a repairman, I can't get through. My neighbors have been having the same issues. A few hours ago someone went into Sandgem to see if they could get someone to come here and fix it or at least shed some light but he hasn't been back in hours."

"Brock, I'm gonna go ask them how long before the ship can leave," Ash said as he pushed himself from the table.

The gym leader nodded; Johanna wordlessly moved to the side and watched the raven-haired youth exit her home.

"Where do you plan on going from here?" Johanna asked.

"Roark plans to make his way to Canalave to meet with his father. Ash and I have family in Kanto so we were thinking of hitching a ride there," Brock replied.

"Are you planning on leaving tonight? From what you've told me it seems like you've been flying all day. Don't you think you should rest for the night and gather your strength? Even in your ship it would be almost another day of travel."

"With no way to communicate with them to know if our family's okay, every minute we spend is another minute they could be in trouble or worse." Images of his house being shredded by rampaging pokémon filled his mind. _His_ pokémon.

"I understand, let me at least get you all something to eat and something to sleep on."

"We'd be really grateful," Brock said, leaving the table and making his way towards the door. "I'm gonna step out for a bit if that's okay."

Johanna merely nodded and went to work.

Brock closed the door behind him and let go of the breath he'd been holding. The more he learned about what was going on, the worse things seemed to be. He knew he wasn't seeing anywhere close to the full picture, but he wondered if he really wanted to.

"How did it go?" Roark asked. His sudden appearance made Brock flinch.

"I didn't notice you were there. But to answer your question, it went all right. Better than expected actually. What about you? How go our defenses?" Brock asked.

"They're fine," Roark replied, unsure if Brock was just humoring him at this point. Oreburgh's gym leader looked out to the dirt road that led into the forest. "It's quiet," he said under his breath, just loud enough for Brock to hear and wonder if Roark considered that quality something good or bad.

"Geodude found something interesting beneath Dawn's house," he added.

"You didn't mess with Johanna's garden did you?" Brock replied as he turned his gaze to where the garden was located

"No, I made sure that Geodude did his digging some ways away from the house."

"Okay, so what did he find?" Brock's curiosity was now aroused.

"Are you familiar with the network of tunnels beneath Sinnoh?" Roark asked.

"I've read some things about it in a booklet, like how it goes throughout all of the region. Beyond that I don't know much. So you're telling me you found one beneath the house?"

"Yes. I've had Onix set up some entry hazards down there as well, just in case any pokémon down there try and get near us from below."

"Well you've certainly been thorough. How long do those entry hazards last?"

"From drawn out gym battles I've had in the past they could last about half-an-hour. I've never bothered to see how much longer they would stay. Normally by then the battle is over or the Stealth Rocks have been dismissed or destroyed by the challenger's attack. I can always have Onix reapply the defenses if they go down."

"Sounds good. I'm gonna go check on Team Rocket and see where they are with the repairs." Brock then headed for Johanna's front lawn, where the tilt-rotor was currently parked.

Roark nodded and made his way back to his rock pokémon, waiting and watching for something to happen.

* * *

Brock saw that Pikachu was with Ash but not riding on his shoulder as usual. The boy was conversing with Jessie and James outside of the ship but he couldn't make out their words.

Once he entered speaking range, they all turned to face him.

"Have you seen Meowth?" the Rocket duo asked at the same time.

"No, I haven't." Brock replied calmly. Despite his calm, he had a feeling that this simple question heralded unpleasant things.

"We sent him out to the house a while ago to see if you could spare any food. Did you not see him?" Jessie asked, fear already creeping into her voice.

"We haven't seen him since we got off the ship," Ash said. "Pikachu, have you seen him?"

The electric mouse shook his head before his ears suddenly twitched and he moved ahead of the group.

"What's wrong, Pikachu?"

"I think he hears something coming," Brock said, a cold sense of dread washing over him for the umpteenth time that day. They looked to the forested outskirts of the town and watched three figures burst through the bushes.

"Guys!" one of the figures cried out, a cry that brought the light back into James and Jessie's eyes.

"Meowth?!" they cried back and ran to him.

Ash, Pikachu, and Brock felt the tension leave them and smiled.

The other two figures, a Glameow and Umbreon, darted past them and kept moving towards the house. Seeing as Pikachu didn't respond to their presence, they knew that those two were probably Johanna's pokémon. The scene that unfolded could've been touching moment for Team Rocket, whose arms were outstretched to accept the leaping embrace of their mascot/fellow operative.

Except Meowth never jumped into their open arms. Instead he opted to run past them, making his way towards their ship. The light from Johanna's house unveiled more of his features. Dark and colorful splotches had been splattered across his fur, but from the way he moved he didn't look too badly injured.

"We need ta get outta here!" Meowth yelled, rushing past Brock and Ash and hopping onto the aircraft. "Can we get dis bucket a bolts inta da air?"

"Yes, Meowth, but slow down for a second. What happened?" Brock asked.

"We don't have time ta waste!" Meowth yelled. When the twerps and his teammates remained rooted, he looked around, spotting the rotating halo of stones over Dawn's house and sighed. "An Ariados caught me an' took me inta da woods. I woulda been a goner if Glameow an' Umbreon hadn' seen it happen an' come afta me. De Ariados have taken all da humans in Sandgem an' dere catchen' any wild pokémon dey find. Now dere comin' here, so we need ta go!"

Meowth watched the blood drain from their faces as his new information dawned on them.

"Meowth, how many humans did you see them capture?" Ash asked.

"I ain't exaggeratin' when I say I saw hundreds. Dey got da woods around dis town covered in traps ta catch anyting dat tries ta leave. More'll be comin'."

"I need to tell Johanna and Dawn." Brock spun around and bolted up the porch's steps and into the house.

"I'll tell Roark and get my pokémon ready." Ash sprinted around the side of the house with Pikachu not far behind.

"James, how soon can we get dis ting off da ground?" Mewoth asked as he wrung his paws.

"About five minutes at best," James replied as he and Jessie entered the cockpit.

"I hope we have five minutes," Meowth whispered. He looked at the night sky as if seeking divine help.

* * *

"That little silkspitter! I knew he was holding out on us. Remember! I told you earlier! I knew he would do something like this. I mean, look at this! And he was gonna hoard this all to himself! Oh Kailob's gonna hear about this!"

"Would you please shut up, you're giving me a headache! And what good does telling Kailob do, Ilzbe? Kharzouz's already dead. S'not like we can do much to him now without looking stupid for playing with a dead body," Tilza replied, kicking Kharzouz's disembodied head towards her for emphasis.

"Serves him right," Ilzbe crowed, stabbing her leg into Kharzouz's eye. She seemed to relish in the sensation of his scrambled brains around her leg as she drove the spike-ended appendage deeper. "Would've loved to have killed him myself, but that begs the question. Who stole my kill!?"

"Seems like his newest catch had a few friends." Tilza motioned at the tracks in the dirt and broken strands of nearly-invisible web woven into the grass. Kharzouz had probably placed them to know if anyone had found his feeding cache and knew what routes to take without disturbing them.

"We need to warn Kailob then. He can mobilize the others and we can finish off anyone left in town."

* * *

Johanna was almost done packing their meals when Brock practically tore the door off its hinges. Glameow and Umbreon looked like they were about to attack him until they realized he was human and shifted their focus to the world behind him.

"Brock, what's wrong?" she asked.

"We just found out that a large group of Ariados are coming. They've got Twinleaf surrounded and are working their way in. We have room for you and Dawn, but we need to go. Now," Brock replied.

Johanna stared at him for a few seconds, the subtle shift of her eyebrows conveying the spectrum of emotions she went through in short succession. Surprise, fear, confusion, despair and acceptance worked their way across her features in a surprisingly short time. She stuffed the last of the contents into Brock's backpack and held it out to him. Despite her determined stare, Brock wasn't sure if the tremble in her arm was from the weight of his backpack or from the fear of his announcement.

Probably a bit of both.

"Take this and get it onto the plane. I'll get Dawn up and grab a few things." Johanna began to make her way upstairs.

"Just the essentials," Brock reminded her as he started making his way to the door. He was about to close it behind him when he looked and saw the woman absently staring around her house. He recognized the look in her eyes; eyes that saw memories in all the objects in the room. Brock understood her reluctance to move immediately. The idea that this could possibly be the last time she ever saw her home. He could see her try to carve every inch of her home into memory but he also knew that they couldn't afford spend too much time here.

"Johanna," he said softly. His voice carried no urgency, no anger or disappointment. There was sadness there; not from her inaction but that she was forced to make this choice in the first place. While the pain of leaving everything behind had never been something that he had struggled with, he knew it was something difficult for others and could sympathize.

Johanna flinched when he spoke her name, his voice breaking her out of her ruminations and bringing her to the present. She looked at him with a weak smile and gave him a curt nod before disappearing upstairs. Brock closed the door and turned to see Roark leaning against the house beyond the steps of the porch. His Geodude lay at his feet with arms crossed.

"I heard from Ash," Roark said, pushing himself off the wall and facing Brock.

"You can say it," Brock replied as he walked past him and turned around the corner.

"Say what?"

"Something along the lines of 'I told you so'."

"Honestly, there was a part of me that really wanted you to be right," Roark said.

"We'll I guess it pays to be paranoid." Brock sighed.

"It's not really paranoia if it turns out to be right." Roark then saw the reason Brock had made his way to Johanna's backyard. Ash was among his pokémon with Brock's party off to a side. Without a word, Brock returned his Happiny to her pokéball and pocketed the sphere. Croagunk and Sudowoodo moved before their trainer, standing at the ready and awaiting their orders.

"How much breathing room will your Stealth Rocks give us?" Brock asked.

"Never bothered to measure it. I guess its range is the radius of a gym battle stadium considering that flying-types still have to deal with that hazard."

"That's still a substantial amount of breathing room."

"Keep in mind that the stones won't put them out of commission; it's essentially scratch damage," Roark said.

"Damage that'll eventually stack and become a problem for them," Brock replied. He then turned to Ash."Ash, you ready to go?" He watched most of Ash's party turn red and disappear into their capture devices. Ash nodded and started making his way around the house with Pikachu running alongside him.

The breeder then turned to Roark. "You're going to come with us now, right?" To Brock's horror Roark shook his head.

"I'll make sure that you guys can get off the ground safely. Then I'll take the tunnel beneath the house to get out of here and make my way to Canalave. If the bugs try to follow me, then I'll collapse the tunnel," Roark said.

"Roark, I'm sure Team Rocket would be able to drop you off in Canalave before we—"

"—I already asked them that. Trust me. It's better this way. I want this and you need to go see your family. The longer it takes you to get to your hometown the higher the risk of something happening," Roark said, shooting down any other potential arguments he might've brought up. Seeing his fellow rock gym leader wasn't convinced he continued. "It's okay, Brock. Honestly, I'm a lot more comfortable when I'm underground than being hundreds of feet above the ground and over an ocean. I don't know how you can stand it."

Brock gave him a weak smile. "I manage."

The Oreburgh gym leader would've gone on to say something else except Sudowoodo moved to his side and the sound of something pinging off his stony hide filled the air. Something whizzed past Brock's nose and would've stabbed into Roark's face had his Croagunk not come in the nick of time and shoved Roark's head down. The glowing violet needle pinged off Roark's mining helmet and clattered to the ground. While slow on the uptake, Roark's Geodude slammed his palms into the ground and summoned a massive slab of stone that eclipsed the rock gym leaders from view. Roark's sense of security lasted until he started noticing the cracks starting form along the stone slab that Geodude had placed before them.

Brock's adrenaline spiked as he watched the purple needles bounce off the lithic rampart. Roark turned his gaze up to the ring of rocks, still slowly orbiting the house but the band was still complete.

"They're attacking us from outside Stealth Rock's range!" Roark unleashed a high-pitched whistle from his lips into the cool night air. Brock felt the ground rumble; the sensation was so familiar that he forgot it was Roark's Onix and not his own. The stone snake encircled them, dozens of poison spikes futilely bouncing off his rocky bulk.

"Onix, we need to get behind the house!" Roark roared. The rock snake shifted and coiled in on himself, creating another wall of stone between their failing defense and the broad side of Johanna's house. Sudowoodo, Croagunk and Geodude busied themselves repelling any projectiles that fell too close to their trainers as they ran.

Rampardos emerged from a flash of light by Roark. The prehistoric pokémon wasted no time in charging headlong at the source of the raining needles. The number of poison needles flying at them decreased significantly when the house that the Ariados were using for cover exploded. Thanks to Rampardos's Head Smash.

Roark tentatively peeked around his Onix to get a glimpse of damage.

Hunks of rubble fell off from his ace's body. The remnants of what was once a home were littered all around him.

"The people that lived there are probably already dead," Roark muttered. Despite his rationalization, he still felt the sting about the reality of that fact. The fate of their attackers was answered when bands of silk started forming around the Head Butt pokémon's joints from different angles. Rampardos tried to retaliate with Flamethrower until one of the smarter and faster Ariados sealed his mouth with a generous amount of web.

Several Ariados started to crawl across their new captive's body, clicking their mandibles in anticipation until his body started glowing red. They fell to the ground once their prey became insubstantial and disappeared from their midst, leaving behind empty webs and wreckage in his wake. Roark pocketed his ace's pokéball and fled before the Ariados remembered who they were originally gunning for.

"So that's not gonna work," Roark muttered from behind the cover of Johanna's house. A chorus of dull thuds reached his ears; each thud signifying a toxic needle embedding itself into the brick and wood.

"_I hope Dawn and Johanna made it to the ship_," Brock thought, imagining what being inside of a room being shredded by needles would be like and shivering at the thought. Sudowoodo ambled over to them and aside from a few scratches from deflecting poisonous needles with his body, he seemed fine. Croagunk — on the other hand — was the opposite, several glowing quills protruded from different parts of his body.

"Croagunk, are you…"

Brock was going to ask if he was okay but stopped himself when the fighting frog plucked out each spike with a bored expression. If anything, Croagunk seemed more uncomfortable with his trainer gawking at him while he yanked out a needle that had skewered straight through his hand.

"Roe?" he croaked inquisitively.

"N...never mind," Brock said, finding some comfort that either the Ariados poison was too weak to affect Croagunk or he was now immune to any and all poisons.

"We gotta keep moving!" Roark's voice reminded him that time was not on their side. His statement was followed by one of the needles stabbing into the ground near him. Roark's Onix took the hint and lifted himself off the ground as he curled around the gym leaders to make a roof of stone over their heads. Spikes began to rain from the sky as the Ariados adjusted the trajectory of their shots.

"You sure you don't wanna just stay with me and come to Canalave?" Roark asked.

"Are you seriously asking me that now!?" Brock shouted with a bit more anger than he intended.

"I'm only asking because getting you back onto your ship is gonna be hard!" Roark pointed around the corner to where the ship was parked. Brock inched over and peeked around the house.

From what Brock could see, the ship was fine. The Ariados were attacking it from different angles with about as much success as they had attacking Roark's Onix. Hunks of ice protruded from each window, preventing any needles from entering the gaps in their defenses. A dark figure blocked most of the view into the cockpit and it wasn't long before Brock recognized it as Ash's Gliscor acting as shield to keep the Poison Sting attacks from entering the hole in the glass.

Even if Brock could make his way over to the ship, he would have to step through grass that was slowly being replaced with countless poisoned needles that had failed to reach their target.

"Brock, what's the inside of Johanna's house look like?" Roark asked.

Brook peeked through the window and was surprised to find it relatively unscathed. "_Probably because the attic and the second floor are taking the brunt of attack_," Brock mused as he turned to give Roark a thumbs-up.

Roark nodded to Geodude, who threw himself into the window. The spray of shattered glass flew across the room and jittered along the floor. Using Sudowoodo as a ladder, Brock, Roark and Croagunk climbed into the living room.

"Onix, weaken the Ariados with Screech and follow up with Dig!" Roark ordered through the window, receiving a slight nod and a rumble as over four hundred pounds of stone slithered away. Brock watched his fellow gym leader look about the room and run over to the couch to toss him two decorative pillows.

"Even though it's not being aimed at us, seeing as how all the attacks have gotten stronger, we might wanna use these," Roark said, pressing the pillows over his ears.

"Just us? What about—" Brock's question died on his lips as he turned and found that Croagunk had already braced himself. Years of training his own Onix helped him recognize the low rumble that marked the start of an Onix's roar. Before it could build any louder Brock pressed the pillows over his ears as hard as he could and felt the floor beneath his feet begin to tremble. Onix's Screech attack was less a noise and more a solid wave of force. His entire body shuddered and vibrated as the shockwave buffeted the house.

Roark cautiously moved the pillows away from his head a few seconds after the room stopped shaking; the only sound that now reached his ears was a high pitched whine. "Did you feel that?"

It took a few moments for Brock to register Roark's speech through the ringing in his ears. "I _tasted_ that." Brock looked towards the hole they'd made and saw that the rain of poison spikes had stopped. The ground shook again, signaling the stone snake's second attack had commenced.

"Let's see about getting you onto that ship," Roark said, making his way to the door leading to the porch. Geodude waited behind him but was ready to strike at a moment's notice. The silence no longer held any comfort for them; it was just another way to get them to let their guard down. He turned the doorknob slowly and opened the door just enough to see outside.

Seeing nothing at first he waited and widened the gap until it was enough for Geodude to move through. The rock pokémon rolled through and onto the porch. He looked around, fists at the ready. Finding nothing amiss, he motioned for his trainer to come out and join him but stayed on high alert. Roark moved through but suddenly froze as soon as he left the threshold.

Being so low to the ground, Geodude had missed it but Roark watched the scarlet scuttling form of a single Ariados disappear into the darkness of the woods in the distance.

"Brock, we need to get you onto that ship now!" Roark said as he made his way down the steps and inspected the ground. A familiar rumble — courtesy of Roark's Onix — shook the house as Brock joined his fellow gym leader on the porch. The stone snake slid into view, waiting patiently for his next order as Brock returned Croagunk and Sudowoodo to their pokéballs.

"I'm assuming you know how to ride an Onix," Roark said.

"Knew how to ride one since I was ten," Brock replied.

"Good." Roark nodded before turning to the hulking stone serpent. "Mind helping him get to the door?" Roark's Onix shook his head and lowered to Brock's level.

The breeder hopped on and grabbed the horn for leverage, feeling — ever so briefly — like he was back with his own Onix at home. The moment of reminiscence was soured with the notion that he might not have a home to go back to.

Roark's Onix turned, faced the aircraft and positioned himself so Brock was close enough to touch the door.

"Guys, let me in!" he yelled, knocking on the metal door.

The door slid open, revealing Ash, Pikachu, Dawn and Johanna. He pushed off Onix, letting himself be caught by everyone's arms. He wanted nothing more than to slam the door behind him shut and get the ship into the air. But he had to try to convince Roark to come with them.

"Roark, you're sure about this?" Brock turned and yelled out the aircraft's open door. Roark's Onix shifted to a side, giving Brock a view of his fellow gym leader.

"Positive. Now get out of here!" Roark yelled back, doing his best to smile even with hints of fear creeping into his voice.

"He's not coming with us?" Dawn asked.

Brock shook his head and reached for the door until Ash grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

"Why?" Anger was growing in Ash's voice.

"He's staying because he's gonna go find his father in Canalave," Brock replied.

"We could at least give him a lift."

Brock shook his head again but didn't try to force his way out of his hold.

"It's not about the fuel," Jessie added as she opened the door to the cockpit, drawing everyone's focus back to her.

"It's not?" Ash glared.

"Are we leavin' or not?!" Meowth growled.

"Give us a minute!" Jessie snapped. She exhaled and shook her head. "As you three probably know, a lot of our vehicles contain something called a Zarrel ion battery. These very powerful batteries help offset the power drain from the vehicle and its equipment. Unfortunately, physical damage to the casing, extreme temperature changes or an outside electrical source can destabilize them."

Jessie eyed Ash and Pikachu briefly before continuing. "While James, Meowth and I were checking over the aircraft, we found that the ZIB was damaged but stable. The fuel we have at the moment is taking the brunt of this ship's energy needs, but once it runs out, we will be running only on battery power.

"Normally that's not a problem, but the strain of powering the aircraft might destabilize the ZIB. And we don't know when the battery will fail. It could last just long enough for us to get to Kanto or it could blow the moment we run out of fuel. If that happens, we'd all be blasting off again. And I'd rather not do that a mile above the ocean."

Johanna spoke up. "Can it be repaired?" she asked.

Jessie shook her head. "It was never designed to be repaired. They have a failsafe that automatically destroys the battery once it destabilizes so there's no evidence left. Finding another piece of equipment with an intact battery like ours is going to be next to impossible since we're the only agents tasked with establishing a foothold in this region. Every piece of equipment we've ever needed was requested over the communicator. With communications down, I don't think we'll be getting a replacement any time soon."

Jessie watched their downcast expressions and sighed. "Look, I know it sucks, but he told us he was okay with it. He said he found a tunnel by the house where he could get out of this town."

Brock nodded in affirmation and looked to Ash, whose eyes were hard but softened the more he aimed his gaze to the floor. He let go of Brock's hand and stepped away to be by Pikachu. He averted his eyes, not wanting to see Brock seal Roark's fate. Brock reached over to shut the hatch when Roark landed in their midst.

"What's the hold up? Why are you guys still here!?" Roark yelled, frantically searching the room for an answer.

"What's wrong?" Ash asked.

"You need to get out of here now! I'll do my best to hold them off!" That was all they had gotten out of Roark before he leapt out of the aircraft and ran.

In the coming years Ash, Dawn and Brock would wonder about the events that transpired that night. Questions about whether they could have done things differently would stay in their thoughts and in their dreams. It would not be the first time they asked themselves those questions. But nonetheless, it was one of the most formative moments in their lives. They would dwell on Roark's words because it would the last time they ever heard from him again.

**.**


	9. Party on the 8th

**As always and with great appreciation, my thanks goes out to Zarrelion for his help on the chapter. **

* * *

**August 16 - Vermilion City**

* * *

The sight of Vincent's home brings him back. Back to places he'd buried so deep that they were expected to remain hidden for life. His training kicks in; innocuous details that a civilian might overlook glistened like beacons. Glass crunched beneath his combat boots; if they're this far from the source then he can estimate the magnitude of the blast.

Through the blown out windows he can see only darkness. Shadows that could be concealing enemy soldiers taking aim at him right now. Every atom of his being urges him to get behind cover but he pushes the thoughts down and shakes his head.

Peacetime.

It was something that he reminds himself of every day. That same reminder echoed day in and day out. Year after year. Nothing on the news says otherwise; none of his old contacts have called him for reenlistment. He tells himself he doesn't have to think that way anymore. He doesn't have to fight anymore.

But the sight of Vincent's house tells him a different story.

He makes it to the battered front door, barely hanging from its hinges. His hands reached out to grab it. At that moment, long-buried memories, sights and smells flash into existence.

Pale and bloated limbs, mangled and broken into nauseating geometries, barely hanging from flaps of skin or strands of sinew.

The stink of death.

Screams of pain.

Mangled bodies.

His hand jolts back as if the doorjamb was aflame. It was then that he recalled that he's still in Vermilion. Bile bubbles in the back of his throat before he pushes it down and forces himself to open the door.

The moment he touches the knob, the door shudders as if in defeat. He moves aside to let it flop down onto the lawn, his eyes boring into the yawning darkness of his assistant's home.

"Vincent!" he roars. The pulse of his heartbeat is in his ears as he strains to listen for any response.

A smell he's grown painfully familiar with wafts over him and whispers the horrible truths he's been fighting to ignore. Blinking lights from distant ambulances filter in through the blown-out windows. Each flash pushes back the blackness long enough to let him see inside.

The things he sees barely register in his mind before the darkness rushes back to claim his sight. Anything not bolted to floor has been overturned and scattered across the floor. The walls are cracked and blackened like the floors, the choking odor of something burnt fills his lungs before he shouts again.

"Here…Sir." A weak voice replies.

Surge has to bow his head to avoid entire wall with him when he barrels through the door, past the living room and into Vincent's bedroom.

Despite having the approximate build and height of a Machamp and armed with the knowledge of how to kill a man in seventy-three different ways, Surge finds himself utterly powerless the moment he enters the room.

Vincent's legs were gone from the knees down, nothing but a shredded mass of meaty pulp were all that was left of his thighs. His arm shakes as he struggles to keep it firm over his forehead in what Surge can only imagine is an attempt at a salute. The soldier in him always knew that there would be casualties in times of war and with that in mind he could brace himself for the loss of a soldier. Part of him wonders if it was a mistake to let his guard down during peacetime, letting himself form attachments because the only time he would ever lose another soldier was to age or when the demons of their past caught up with them.

"Ah…at ease soldier." He stumbles as he finds his voice and returning the salute. He kneels over the man's body as Vincent drops the salute.

"You warned me about the Voltorb." Vincent manages a smile with glistening red teeth and pink foam dribbling from the corners of his mouth. "They just popped outta the pokéballs and wouldn't go back in. They kept screaming until..." Vincent's breath hitches, his eyes scrunch tightly as the wave of pain passes and he exhales.

"You're gonna be okay, there's help co—" Surge begins, wondering how many times he's said these same — insincere — words. He would detach himself from what was happening — sounding hopeful but stern as a superior officer should. He'd done it dozens of times before without fail.

Which is why he feels as though peacetime has made him soft when he can't seem to forge steel into his words or actions.

"Don't bullshit me…Sir." Vincent's cough is followed by a wince. "I can tell from the way you're looking at me. I wasn't gonna make from the moment you saw me."

His silence is as good as writing the death certificate for this boy he had watched become a soldier. Once again he would have to watch another life slip like sand through his monstrously large hands.

"Shame it went down like this. Do you remember what I told you? How I wanted it to go down?" Vincent asked with a cough.

Surge did remember, but decided to humor his subordinate in his last moments. "This old soldier forgets things nowadays. You're gonna have ta remind him."

Vincent nodded and closed his eyes. His silence made Surge's heart pound until he started talking but kept his eyes closed as if visualizing the whole thing. "I wanted us — all of us from da unit — ta be surrounded on all sides by whatever bastards they'd thrown us at. It woulda been our final charge, our last hoorah, an' none of us woulda wanted to be anywhere else but with you when we called it curtains."

"Damned fools, the lot of you." Surge shook his head.

"Dying under your command would've been the greatest honor, sir. Ya made us men; pulled our asses outta the fire so many times we lost count. Ya never pulled rank on us or some other shit like that. You were more of a father than my real old man ever was. I would've given my life for you. We all would've."

"You all did," Surge replied..

"Except me," Vincent added bitterly.

"I wanted you all to walk the harder road. All of us knew how easy it was to die. Living, with what we had to do, that's a bitch."

"I'll make it up to you, sir."

"Vin, you—"

"I'll let the boys know you're coming. Whip'em inta shape so you'll have something ta be proud of when you join us."

"I was always proud, of all of you," Surge replied.

But Vincent didn't seem to hear him and kept talking. "Bet those bastards have been lazin' about without us. Maybe they took our motto ta heart. What was it again, sir? Something about us going ta hell for all the awful shit we did."

Vincent's voice was growing softer now and his speech started to slow down.

"Party on the eighth ring," Surge said.

"We'll get ice on the ninth," Vincent finished with a contented smile and closed his eyes. "I'm getting really tired, sir. Permission to rest, Sir?"

"Denied, Private. I…order you ta live, ta not…leave your old CO by himself on the battlefield." Surge struggled to keep his voice neutral and calm.

"Hate ta say I'm gonna hafta ignore that order, sir. Just remember though, you're never…" Vincent abruptly grew still and quiet.

Surge kept hoping Vincent would finish but as the seconds turning into minutes he realized that wasn't going to happen. His hand moved over to Vincent's neck, moving the collar of his fatigues to the side to reveal the dog tags around his neck. With a simple tug they came off his neck and dangled in his hands.


	10. To Unite All Peoples

**Thanks to Zarrelion his help on the chapter. **

* * *

**August 17 - Route 24**

* * *

Giovanni stepped onto the helipad and extended his hand to Matori — his assistant — as she tried her best to balance and walk out of the helicopter in her heels. Her free hand touched his own, the other hand clutching an electronic tablet to her chest as he helped her down. The Rocket boss helped her down and felt the warmth of her touch quickly leave his hand as she struggled to keep her glasses in place while the wind whipped her hair into a frenzy. The helicopter blades whirled above them, making it near impossible to hear each other speak.

They made their way off the helipad and towards the stairs, descending several flights into the base. A dour man — bald except for "wings" of fiery red hair above his ears — along with his bespectacled assistant met them halfway down the steps.

As the group descended, Giovanni produced a pokéball from his pocket and handed it to the bespectacled man.

"Make sure my Persian receives the best care possible. Should I find less than favorable results, tonight will be your last night on this earth." Giovanni's tone was cold as he begrudgingly handed Persian's pokéball over to the man who grabbed it and scurried down the stairs. Giovanni turned to the scientist still beside him.

"Dr. Bamda, I expect you have something for me?" Giovanni replied, never once looking at the scientist in question.

The scientist, his bushy eyebrows and impressive mustache unwavering, nodded. The perennial butchering of his name was a sore spot for him but he thought it unwise to correct the Rocket leader. "We're not entirely sure what's happening," he began. "Only that it's happening all across the planet. We've been getting reports from our field operatives of their pokémon going berserk as well as injuries and even deaths caused by their pokémon. Our best scientists working around the clock to find out what's happened. We've performed necropsies on some of the dead pokémon and found that their muscles and skin have become significantly denser and tougher. Upon dissecting the brain we found that—"

"Do you know why any of this is happening?" Giovanni's response was brusque and demanding.

"Well…no…Sir." Namba stammered out. He then recomposed himself and continued. "With further investigation we may be able to determine that."

"Was it one of ours?"

Namba looked at the Rocket boss. "Sir?" he asked. "I am not sure what you are asking."

"Could this have been caused by one of our departments, either accidentally or intentionally?"

Namba took on a thoughtful expression for a moment and started to shake his head before stopping once more, getting his superior's attention.

"It could be possible," he said. "Considering the results of our experiments in the past, such an effect is entirely possible. However, we lack the capabilities to cause such a powerful and wide-ranging effect in such a short time span."

He descended the last flight of stairs and opened a steel door at the bottom of the stairwell.

Men and women in white coats scurried frantically across the room, pointing at the various graphs and charts on their electronic tablets. One group stood out in the crowd. Every member of that group stood at attention as they awaited the arrival of the Rocket boss and Namba. Giovanni easily matched their faces to their names. They were his best agents, therefore earning them the right to be addressed by name.

"Once you sent out the recall, these operatives were the first to arrive," Namba said as he stood beside Matori.

Giovanni stopped before the first pair. Their silver uniforms stood out amongst the white-coated scientists.

"Attila—" the burly blond man began.

"And Hun, reporting," the gray-haired woman finished.

"Agent 009." The lithe blonde woman bowed slightly with a smile. Giovanni knew her as Domino…amongst many other codenames.

"Marauder." The heavy, rough voice boomed from a massive man whose face was hidden behind an armored bronze mask.

"Annie and Oakley." A blond woman and a blue-haired woman chimed in simultaneously.

"Cassidy!" the gold-haired woman exclaimed.

"And Bill," the green-haired man croaked, earning him a few quizzical stares from the others in the row, including Giovanni.

"I thought your name was Butch?" the Rocket leader asked.

The color change that the operative underwent would have made a Kecleon proud as he quickly reddened and then began to turn purple with exasperation and anger. Cassidy grabbed his shoulder with a reassuring squeeze and shot him a look that brooked no argument.

"I recently had it changed," Bill grumbled, as he deflated and resumed his normal color.

Giovanni would've said that he didn't look like a "Bill" but decided that now was an inappropriate time to comment. He faced the elite operatives again. "What's the situation in Hoenn?"

Both agents, while calm and composed as was befitting their elite status, looked at each other nervously.

They didn't get a chance to speak before Attila broke the silence. "We had succeeded in capturing Rayquaza. Attempts to tame it were minimally successful at best but we had some new procedures lined up that looked promising. However, a massive spike in Rayquaza's power occurred, allowing it to kill most of the staff and escape the facility. Its whereabouts are unknown at this time, Sir. I have no excuse." Attila bowed his head.

Hun noted that their boss didn't seem remotely bothered by the loss of one of their greatest catches to date.

"Domino." Giovanni turned to face the woman with blonde curls beside Hun. There was a fire in her blue eyes. A burning ember that radiated such unwavering loyalty that it edged into zealotry. Often times she had made bold advances towards him but each and every time he had tactfully turned her down. Not that he didn't find her attractive. But he needed to consider how she stood to benefit from this action. If it were something as simple as lust, then he could let some of his guard down. But one could never be too careful.

She performed to the best of her ability in the field but much like the aircraft that he had put into storage years back, something about her reminded him a failure that — as far as memory served — never happened. As such he had sent her away to a far-off region to see what she could gather for the advancement of Team Rocket. Though it seemed not enough time had passed to shake those odd feelings of frustration he had whenever he looked at her.

"It's as Attila said. I was working undercover in the Ferrum region investigating rumors of legendary pokémon being spotted there. Turned out to be more myth than anything but before I could send out my report, the pokémon started to go berserk. There were casualties." Domino's tone was neutral, betraying no sense of the fear she had felt then.

"Marauder." Giovanni glanced at the hulking form behind him with a grimace. The iron-masked man returned the sentiment and for a while the two simply stared at one another. It was no secret within the organization that Marauder desired to kick Giovanni off his throne and take his organization for himself. Giovanni had known this well before the Celebi incident, but knew that he could take the man's drive to usurp him and use it to further his own goals.

With every mission Marauder completed for him, Giovanni added another layer certainty that he would remain on top. Giovanni would've liked to believe that he was getting away with this without Marauder's knowledge, but it would be insulting the man's intelligence.

And potentially dangerous. Underestimating one such as Marauder was foolhardy action.

He could only imagine what it was like to work against your own goals…all while thinking you were forwarding them.

"If you don't recall, you sent me to the Holon region to investigate a new type of pokémon native there and see if the with the new Dark Balls Dr. Jumba—" Marauder began.

"Namba!" the scientist snapped from behind the Rocket boss.

"–was working on could still work on them." Maurader continued on without missing a beat. "Things were going smoothly up until yesterday. Fortunately, I had only caught pokémon that knew physical attacks and none of them ended up killing each other. The problem is what came afterwards. When the pokémon woke up they started attacking me and the lab assistants. The indoctrination of the pokéball was nullified somehow. Returning them was no longer effective and trying to catch them with another only delayed them for a few seconds."

Giovanni's hand cradled his chin as he studied the floor and moved away from the Iron Masked Marauder to Bill and Cassidy. If memory serves, then they were his only field agents in the Sinnoh region. "What do you two have to report?"

"We were in the Sinnoh region helping Dr. Gero—" Cassidy said.

"Okay, that had to be on purpose!" Namba interjected from behind the Rocket boss.

"—acquire Hippowdon sand for his research."

"Fair enough. Annie? Oakley?" Giovanni abruptly faced the sisters.

"We were halfway to Guyana to see if we could find you more traces of Mew when we got your message and turned back." The two spoke in such perfect unison that it sounded as if one person was speaking.

Giovanni nodded and turned away from the group. He narrowed his eyes and stroked his chin as he gazed out across the room as if he was viewing something beyond the reinforced metal walls.

"Take the next three hours to get what sleep you can. It may be a few days before you can have that luxury again. I would send you out now but changing time zones will cause complications later on, regardless of your loyalty to me. Matori, please take inventory of this facility's supplies and bring me the itinerary. Namda, the next necropsy better be more informative or you'll be on the table next. I expect you all to report to me at 0500 for your assignments."

Every agent stood a bit straighter and saluted. "Yes boss!" they chanted in unison.

"You're all dismissed." Giovanni sighed and rubbed his forehead. His mind buzzed with activity like Beedrill nest, each soldier an idea of how to proceed.

* * *

**One of the things I'm doing differently this time around is that while the Subsistence and Coalescence had Ash's group going place to place, I noticed that the characters Ash and co encountered there were basically waiting for someone like him to come by and bring them along to join their group. I had to justify why they had stayed there so long in the first place when any normal person would leave any place that held no future for them and with no guarantee that someone they knew would come for them to help. This time with the redux, it will be different. If Kanto was a boardgame, then the subsistence is a story following one particular piece. The Lapidescence will be following different pieces, each with their own motivations and reasons for moving across the board and meeting other pieces, not necessarily meeting with Ash and co but potentially forming their own groups in this world. **

**It's been a while and I've been mainly giving out these mini chapters in hopes to placate you all while I've worked out the next segment to the main story, like appetizers before the next entree, but I'm finally almost done with the next chapter with Ash, Dawn, and Brock. You can probably expect it something late this month or early next month.  
**

* * *

**Up Next, Chapter 11: Gone With The Win**


	11. Gone With The Win

**I know I usually take the time to thank Zarrelion for the help he provides me every chapter but his additions on this chapter should not go unnoticed. Quite of few shots of the events within the Tilt Rotor aircraft were his contribution this time and a welcome one at that. This is the longest chapter I've ever written, hence why my monthly update was late this time around (The lateness might also have something to do with Thanksgiving, a cousin's wedding, and a weeklong cruise for my one year wedding anniversary). This chapter has been something that I've picked up and put down over the course of three months, each time adding just a bit more and backtracking to make sure everything made sense. My hope is that Zarrelion and I have provided you with a quality chapter once more and I look forward to your thoughts and feelings on this segment be they paragraphs or just a few shorts about whether you liked it or not.  
**

* * *

**August 17 - Route 24**

* * *

A veritable river of crimson poured out from the woods. As if ordered by an unseen force, the halo of stones over Johanna's house froze in place, aimed and launched across the field. Roark and the Ariados quickly learned that even a tiny bit of pressure in the right place could spell big problems. Stealth Rock was meant to be an entry hazard, but now it acted more like Stone Edge. The stony points speared through the Ariados' delicate exoskeletons and slipped into the earth beneath them.

Another row of Ariados crawled over the corpses of their fallen brethren. They advanced about a foot before the stones that had slain the first row of Ariados rocketed upwards from the ground, tearing apart the next procession of Ariados. The stones returned to their original formation — a lethal halo over Johanna's house. Each stone dripped with gore, gleaming like a morbid beacon and daring the swarm to proceed.

The remaining Ariados took the hint and paused. Only to raise their heads in unison and unleash a volley of poisoned flak. Roark's Onix immediately coiled around his trainer. The metallic ringing of hundreds of needles deflecting off stone echoed in Roark's ears. The distant hum of the aircraft gave him a small sense of comfort until the sound of the needles abruptly changed pitch. It was a sound he had recognized as metal-upon-metal impact; the Ariados now targeted the aircraft.

A burst of light caught the swarm's attention. Some continued firing at the rising aircraft while those that faced the burst of light met crimson eyes and a torrent of flame. The first sight of flames scattered the swarm; many of them taking refuge in the vacant homes of Twinleaf Town. Following their wisdom, Roark retreated back into Johanna's house with Geodude floating at his heels.

The house shuddered as he slammed the door behind him. He stopped momentarily to consider if locking the door behind him would buy him some extra time. The answer came in the form of loud_ thunks_ against the wood as a number of glowing needles protruded halfway through the wood.

Roark leapt away just as his Geodude rushed ahead and placed himself between his trainer and the door. He raised his arms as if to catch any needles sent his way.

Despite the added barriers, Roark felt no safer on the first floor than he did outside. Occasionally the house and ground would shake. A sign that Onix or Rampardos were doing their best to keep the swarm from approaching the house. Roark looked around, noting the lack of windows to give him a vantage point through which to check on the aircraft and retaliate against the swarm's moves.

"_I could make for the tunnel__!_" The thought entered his mind as he made his way up the stairs. "_Do I really have wait for them to be gone before I can escape_?" Roark shook his head halfway up the steps. "_No. I owe them for getting me out of the deathtrap that my city became. I'm not gonna abandon them like I did my town. I have to see this through. I'm not going to be like _him."

* * *

"Is he inside?" Onix asked over the constant stream of hisses that filled the air.

"Looks like it," Rampardos replied. "Why are we still here?"

"Roark doesn't want to leave until that giant metal thing is out of here. We have to keep him safe and make sure that thing leaves this place."

"So we can let loose?" Rampardos didn't bother to hide the excitement in his voice.

"Long as we don't hit the house Roark's in or the flying metal thing. Oh, and don't get caught again, Roark won't be here to save you."

Onix coiled his body like a tight spring before lunging towards the closest house. Over four hundred pounds of airborne stone pulverized the walls on contact and set the ground trembling

"Show off," Rampardos said beneath his breath as he shifted his gaze to the aircraft the other humans were on. Several strands of silk soared through the air and latched onto its metal underbelly as it steadily rose higher into the sky. Rampardos doubted the Ariados had enough strength or weight to keep the ship from moving but that fact didn't seem to stop them from trying.

* * *

At first, everything seemed to be going well. When Roark had leapt off the aircraft with his last words, the Rocket Trio immediately began to lift off. Protocols that dictated each and every instrument be checked and rechecked before liftoff were passed over in favor of a cursory inspection.

Indeed, Brock, Dawn and Ash didn't even have time to fasten their seatbelts as the tilt-rotor lurched and began to climb upwards at an agonizingly slow rate. It was the trade-off they had made: rate of climb had been sacrificed for VTOL capability.

It was when the aircraft shuddered under a massive impact that Brock dared to look out the window to see what the problem was.

He immediately wished he hadn't. A swarm of Ariados poured out of the surrounding dusk-lit woods and began ravaging the town. It was then he noticed the aircraft had stopped ascending and a shrill alarm began to sound.

* * *

"James! What's the hold up!?" Jessie snapped from her position in the copilot's seat.

James opened the throttle even further but the altimeter showed no signs of changing. "We're caught on something."

"Well get us uncaught den!" Meowth yelled from behind them. "Or dem Ariados will be pickin' dere teeth wit our bones!"

The blue-haired Rocket operative looked at the fuel gauge. He was stuck with a sadistic choice, use up the fuel to try and break free —and risk the Zarrel ion battery failing in a spectacular explosion that would most certainly kill blast aboard the craft into the sea. Or conserve the fuel and not break free — and risk letting the Ariados eat them alive.

He weighed his options and slammed the tilt-rotor's throttle past the maximum safe limit. The aircraft shuddered and the roar of the engines became deafening as the aircraft began to rise.

* * *

If Rampardos were honest with himself, what the Ariados were doing amused him. It was like watching a Wurmple trying to wrangle an angry Aggron. One Ariados was being dragged across the grass as fought it to keep the craft from moving with nothing more than the strength of its spindly limbs. In its infinite wisdom, it fired a strand of silk from its thorax to one of the nearby houses.

It realized this fatal error far too late. Its body when rigid for a few seconds before the tension on the two strands ripped its body in half.

Rampardos allowed himself a hearty laugh at the sight and would've continued had the rest of the swarm not learned from their comrade's mistake. The tilt-rotor had gained enough altitude that it started to fly east, making it a few meters before being forcibly halted in its tracks.

The craft's twin thrusters flared to life, throwing out long tails of blue fire that stood out sharply against the rapidly darkening dusk sky. The aircraft moved a few inches as it strained against the silken restraints.

Concrete walls cracked and crumbled; patches of earth were torn from the ground as the pilot tried to break free. But for every strand that snapped from the strain, another three were quick to reconnect and reinforce the broken ends that anchored the ship to the surrounding houses.

Rampardos watched the pilot try a new tactic. Reversing abruptly and spinning the craft around only to fly full-throttle in the opposite direction. Despite their efforts the strands still held strong and kept the craft in place.

Another salvo of strands soared through the air, missing the rotor blades by a few inches as the pilot moved the only safe direction still left to them: upwards.

Poisoned needles and silk strands flew, faltered and arched back down to the ground as the aircraft flew as high as the strands allowed.

Groups of Ariados were already starting to make the climb up the strands by the time Rampardos moved to stop them. A flash of light and a rushing wave of warmth were quick reminders to the swarm that there were still threats around them. The Head Butt pokémon did the first thing that came naturally to him and charged like a lithic battering ram, spraying cones of fire as he went.

His opponents proved themselves to be quick learners when Roark's ace felt something catch his ankles in the midst of his charge. The ground quickly rose to meet Rampardos' face. The force of the subsequent collision created a sizable scorched crater beneath him. Attempts at lifting himself off the ground with his arms served as a painful reminder of how weak and stubby they really were.

Efforts to move his legs were proved fruitless with what he imagined was another well-placed String Shot binding his ankles. Without a second thought, he launched a burst of fire at his feet and came to regret it with the pain that surfaced immediately after. Through the white fog of agony he felt the hold around his legs loosen as the webbing burned away.

A small group of Ariados were starting to converge on him. Only to meet their demise when their supposed prey slammed his head against the earth.

The neighboring houses shivered from the blow that managed to catapult Rampardos into the air and few meters back from the crater. The remains of the Ariados that had gotten too close to him were still raining over the neighborhood when Onix's body erupted out from one of the houses, sending a spray of debris (that probably included chunks of Ariados) into the air.

"Let me guess..." Onix began, looking at the newly formed crater and the blackened ankles of his teammate.

Rampardos shot Onix a glare as hot as his Flamethrower. "Don't start. Not all of us can dig and avoid their damned silk."

"I think I just might have something for that." The stone snake looked up at the aircraft for a few seconds and nodded. The stones that comprised his upper body started to spin and dirt from the ground around them started lifting into the air as the wind picked up. The lithic serpent opened his maw and unleashed a column of sand that joined the maelstrom that now swirled around the neighborhood.

Shifting swaths of brown and gold filled his vision. It wasn't thick enough to obscure his view of the neighborhood but he could constantly feel the grains of sand wash over him in waves.

"There, that should make it impossible for their silk to reach us and harder for their shots to hit us."

"What about the flying metal thing?" Rampardos asked.

"I made sure to keep the sandstorm low. As long as they stay where they are the sand shouldn't bother them."

"Looks like we won't be alone." Rampardos motioned with his head towards the aircraft. Onix looked up and was surprised to see something gliding gracefully through the maelstrom of sand. Gliscor crossed his pale indigo claws and rapidly swung them apart, launching his X-Scissor at the silk strands beneath the ship. The vacuum blades slammed into the strands but silk cord remained undamaged

"Let's go help him out!" Onix roared, launching himself deeper into the battlefield.

* * *

Roark backed away from the window and closed it, watching the glass rattle against the wind and sand. The sound of the granules washing over Johanna's home created a constant drone that filled the entire house with white noise. Making out what was going outside became an impossible task as long as the sandstorm raged but that was a small degree of comfort for him. If he couldn't see through it, then hopefully neither could the Ariados.

One of the window panes suddenly cracked, making Roark flinch and slowly inch away. He turned and eyed his Geodude who had his back to him and was busy guarding the entrance of his room. The presence of his first pokémon offered him some respite, but it wasn't enough to stop him from feeling vulnerable.

"I need a weapon," Roark mumbled to himself as he glanced around the bedroom. His Geodude took the hint and moved out of his way and into the hallway outside.

"_Or do I_?" Roark stopped himself in mid-step. Scenes of the carnage in Oreburgh flashed through his mind.

_"I guess I only _feel_ like I need a weapon. Having one makes me feel safer…but it doesn't actually make me any safer. The soldiers… they had training, tactics, armor, more advanced weapons and even a fucking tank! What do I have that they don't_?"

He watched Geodude swivel back and forth as he made sure nothing could sneak up on him and his trainer. The animate rock smiled, and gave him a thumbs up.

"_I know what pokémon are capable of and I won't underestimate them_." Roark mentally replied to his earlier question. He nodded to himself, as if satisfied with his answer and made his way back downstairs, letting Geodude take the lead. Sand sprayed into the room in bursts through the broken window he and Brock had come through.

Without even being told, Geodude moved towards the breach and held his position. If the waves of sand splashing over his face and open eyes bothered him, then he didn't show it.

"_I doubt Johanna has a gun, which is fine. I doubt I'd be comfortable even using one and I'd rather not bring any more attention to myself; those things can get pretty loud_."

Roark's busied himself in the kitchen, flinging drawers and cabinets open in a desperate attempt to search for something to arm himself. Forks and knives might as well have been toys. Johanna's expensive knife set seemed like a marginally better option. Roark pulled the biggest and longest knife he found out of the block and did a few practice thrusts and slashes before he let his arm fall to the side with sigh.

"_These Ariados have ranged attacks. I'll be dead before I even got close enough to cut them_."

Something from the battle outside shook the house again, causing anything still remaining on the shelves to finally fall. Roark crouched behind the counter for cover as he waited for the tremors to dissipate. His fingers wrapped around the hardwood handle of the knife as he readied himself for battle.

The lights in the house flickered and died, leaving Roark in the dark with only his meager weapon. Seconds ticked by without incident before he found the switch on his helmet and activated the light. Another few heartbeats went by before he lowered his knife to the wooden floor and grabbed the metal knob that was apparently in front of his face.

Several metal pans were stacked within the cupboard. He entertained the thought of donning them as armor like some post-apocalyptic knight. But the pots and pans promised him even less protection than the armor that the soldiers of Oreburgh wore. His eyes did notice a cast iron skillet among the ensemble, but lifting it quickly reminded him how heavy and unwieldy it felt in his grip.

"Wish I'd brought a pickaxe with me," Roark muttered as he put the skillet away. He made his way across the room. The beam of light from his helmet flitted across the room, revealing books and contest trophies knocked from fancy bookcases and scattered around the sandy floor like so much garbage.

Geodude kept to his post, the floor around him slowly disappearing beneath the invading sands. Just outside the whirling sands, he could see Johanna's garden — or its remains being torn apart and swept up in the storm.

Roark looked around the kitchen before he had a sudden flash of insight. "_Her garden_!"

"Geodude," Roark began, waiting until the rock pokémon turned to face him. "I need you to go out and see if Johanna has a shed. I think I saw one connected to the side of the house. Bring me something from there I can use as a weapon."

The sound of stone scraping stone reached Roark's ears as Geodude crossed his arms and gave him a withering stare.

"Don't give me that look. You can go out there safely and it's just around the corner. It'll take you a few seconds if you hurry!" Roark ordered but didn't see the glowering stone move. After a few seconds of hard staring, the stone pokemon grumbled his name and launched himself through the window and disappeared into the quartz maelstrom.

Roark began to feel as though he were in an hourglass as the seconds passed and sand continued to pour through the shattered windows. Aside from counting the seconds, the miner had no idea how much time had elapsed and whether he should start to be worried at Geodude's prolonged absence.

His answer came in the form of an Ariados bursting through the shattered window. A mixture of blood and sand flowed from a wound on its thorax that Roark guessed to be from the Stealth Rock ringing the house.

"_But it didn't finish the job_." The dark thought that shadowed Roark's observation breached the surface of his thoughts.

The Ariados froze upon seeing him. Its mandibles clicked as it studied him without moving an inch. Roark's heart was beating painfully against his chest, every shaky breath sounding obnoxiously loud in the silence. Why the Ariados wasn't attacking was beyond him. And with no immediate cover to hide behind, it had a clear shot at him.

The moment of unnatural stillness ended when the Ariados slowly dipped its thorax down and pressed it to the floorboards of Johanna's home. Upon lifting it back, Roark noticed a stringy residue still clinging to the long leg pokemon's spinneret. One of its hind legs slid back and pressed against something that caught the light of Roark's helmet light.

He noticed the thin sliver shift back and forth with the movements of the Ariados' leg. All the while the red arachnid stared at him. The strand went still until something tugged at the other end and the Ariados replied with a single tug in return. By the time Roark put together what was happening, it was already dead.

The spray of sand from the storm outside made him wince and close his eyes as the room was filled with the sound of something sinking into the wooden floorboards. When the spray of sand subsided somewhat, he opened his eyes and saw that the Ariados was still there in the same spot. Yet, there was something about it that didn't seem quite right. It wasn't until its legs buckled and the body toppled forward that he noticed the shovel now separating the Ariados's head from the rest of its body.

Geodude harrumphed and crossed his arms, everything about his posture and expression growling, "_I told you so_."

"Okay, okay! You were right, I was wrong. Thanks for the save, and getting the shovel by the way," Roark said, cautiously making his way over to the spade. The Ariados was still, but Roark couldn't get over the idea that it could come alive at any second and attack him. His hesitation must've bothered his first pokémon because he moved over, yanked the shovel out of the corpse and handed it to him.

Roark took it and felt the weight, immediately feeling more comfortable with this item than he would with any gun or knife. It wasn't his pickaxe but it was close enough that it was practically an extension of him. Shovels were always a bit of a bittersweet tool for him; they reminded him of his father, given that they were his signature tools. Roark watched the dark ichor flow along the blade and drip onto the floor by his boots. A pang of sadness that such an essential tool in his line of work had been used to take a life.

Dark mist started to ebb from the shadowy corners of the room; a fact that Roark and Geodude were quick to notice. Out from the shadows burst another Ariados only to be intercepted by another stone dagger that smashed through the ceiling. The Ariados immediately angled itself to the side. That action turned a direct hit into a mere graze.

Geodude took the brunt of Shadow Sneak attack, using his arm to block the Ariados' body while it tried to sink its mandibles into his stony arm. By the time the bug realized it would make no progress with its tactic, it was already too late. Geodude's fist slammed through its horn and into its face, causing its head to explode.

Roark brought his arm up to shield himself from the splinters and bits of roof that filled the air. By the time he lowered his arm the fight had already concluded, or so he had hoped until more shadows began to materialize in the dark corners of the room. Geodude rolled back at Roark's feet with his arms raised and ready to take any blow meant for Roark.

The Ariados sprung at them from the shadows. Too many for Geodude to block and too fast for either he or Roark to follow — which would've been a problem, had a salvo of stones not rained down through the ceiling, cutting their aerial tackles short. Geodude struck without hesitation, manifesting stones in his hands and throwing them at the downed Ariados like knives. By the time the Stealth Rock slipped out of its target, another stone quickly replaced it.

Four Ariados remained and despite all the fear that told him to run away to safety, Roark lunged at one of the fallen spiders and swung the shovel down on its head as hard as he could. The fear and hesitation dissolved upon knowing he would only be safe once he killed every Ariados in the room. Roark felt the exoskeleton crack and crunch beneath his swing. A flicker of superiority and satisfaction ignited in his core.

Wasting no time, Roark ripped the shovel out from the creature's lifeless body. The lack of screams telling him everything he needed to know. He ran across the room where the other Ariados who was already getting up. Roark brought his shovel down like a knight's battleaxe, only to lodge his weapon into Johanna's wooden floor when his target moved its head slightly. The Oreburgh miner reacted quickly, shifting his weight onto the shovel and slamming it against the creature's head just as it launched a length of silk from its mouth.

Roark felt the attack rush by him, the sound reminding him how one hit would immobilize him and spell his doom should he make a single mistake. The miner moved on instinct, jumping onto the nearest Ariados and slamming his boot onto the arachnid's open wound. The result was a screech that shook the gym leader to his bones.

The spider's legs buckled beneath the pain and Roark's weight. Its spindly legs frantically slashed at the floorboards as it tried to throw Roark off. Roark lifted his shovel back into the air and swung. All the while he was grinding his boot into the bubbling wound. The Ariados's screaming and upturned head never saw or felt the shovel's edge cut into its throat. Roark watched the head bounce along the floor until he remembered there were still more Ariados to fight and turned to find one already taking aim at him.

Roark reflexively dove to the side behind Johanna's couch, hoping his meager excuse for cover would buy him enough time to consider his next move. Before Roark could even scramble away he heard something spatter against the wall and replace the sound of raining needles.

A frantic heartbeats later his Geodude rolled over to where he lied, offering him a hand which his trainer gratefully took. Once on his feet, Geodude motioned towards the stairs, a suggestion Roark didn't question as darkness began to bleed from the corners once more.

More Ariados lunged at them, unaware of the entry hazard that awaited them as they infiltrated the house. Another shockwave from the battle outside rocked the foundations of Johanna's home, evoking creaks and groans that made Roark wonder how long his refuge from the sandstorm would last.

Steady streams of sand poured from the ceiling; each hole marking where Stealth Rock dove through to strike the newcomers. Holes pocked the second floor hallway. A fine dusting of sand whistled in through the shattered windows of the house.

Roark realized that the Ariados weren't entering Johanna's home to come to kill him. They were just trying to avoid staying in the sandstorm. That and the damage from the entry hazard were probably the only reasons he was able to survive this long. Let alone kill an Ariados with his comparatively pathetic weapon. Another series of pained screeches from the first floor reminded him that death's hourglass still flowed.

Geodude swiveled around and readied himself for the oncoming swarm he was sure would come up the stairs. Another shard of stone speared through the attic and the floor between Roark's feet. It was a harsh reminder that while Stealth Rock was only supposed to go after the Ariados, the stones didn't care whether he was in their path or not.

A chorus of hisses filtered through the floorboards from below, the sounds of a thousand scrapes and scratches filling the air and growing louder as the swarm drew closer and closer to the stairs. Roark gripped his shovel until his shaking hands were white. He swallowed and braced himself for what was to come. The fact that he was drawing more Ariados away from Brock and the others had stopped being a comfort.

* * *

Onix's sandstorm was working perfectly as far as Gliscor was concerned. Any attempts to bind him with silk or scratch him with their poisoned needles were blown away before they even got anywhere near him. Anything that wanted to affect him would have to use those techniques at point-blank range. Assuming that the creature stayed alive long enough; an unlikely preposition.

The Ariados swarm wasn't too keen on staying in the sandstorm and immediately broke ranks to scatter and seek refuge within the surrounding vacant houses. At least that was the case within the storm. Above the swirling sands was another story.

Several meters between the rushing sands and the aircraft was a small group of Ariados steadily making their way up a thick silk strand. Every time Gliscor broke the surface of the storm, the Ariados launched volleys of silken strands. Staravia had also been sent out to help him. While he couldn't safely enter the sandstorm like Gliscor, he could at least keep the Ariados busy and slow their advancement. He did his best to keep some of them occupied, still others crawled up the thread.

Efforts to sever the strand with long-range attacks inside the storm had failed. No matter how much strength he put behind his X-Scissor, the thread withstood all his punishment without so much as a nick for all his trouble. There was the possibility that he could slice through it with his claws but he decided against touching the silk.

A few minutes earlier, a String Shot from one of the Ariados above the sandstorm latched onto his tail. His attacker quickly realized it'd gotten more than it bargained for when Gliscor pulled the unlucky Ariados into the storm. The idea of releasing the strand held between its mandibles lost its appeal when it saw how far away it was from the ground.

And so the Ariados struggled to hold onto Gliscor while the flaying winds whipped it around like a kite in a hurricane. When the scouring winds didn't finish it off, the aeroscorp gave his tail a hard yank, reeling the Ariados straight into the crushing embrace of his open claw.

Battered — and now beheaded — the body plummeted to the ground where it splattered, leaving Gliscor's claw with the crushed and dripping remains. Seconds into the kill, Gliscor realized he couldn't open up his claw to release the pulpy contents. As hard as he tried, he could only widen the gap by about a centimeter, revealing the silk strand in what was once in the Ariados's mandibles.

The sand coated thread linked his stinger and claw, while it didn't limit his mobility; this wasn't the ideal moment for a handicap. Tearing it apart by the strength of his tail and arm only served to exhaust him further. While the silk was covered by a layer of sand carried on the winds; he didn't want to risk immobilizing himself even further by using his fangs or his other claw.

Gliscor eventually landed by Rampardos, who had just barreled through a house, removing one of the tilt-rotor's anchors.

"Can you help me get this thing off?" Gliscor yelled over the din of swirling sands. Rampardos turned to face him, the wreckage of the house falling off his body with every step.

A few seconds was all it took for the lithic battering ram to understand Gliscor's dilemma. "Don't move," he commanded. Puffs of smoke coiled out from his mouth as he spoke. Before Gliscor could voice his concerns, the flames had already sprung forth. The air between him shimmered and hissed as sand flitted through the focused inferno and became wispy strands of glass. By the time Gliscor had registered that attack and hopped away, it was over. With trepidation, he noted a scorched patch of earth between them.

Glancing down, he noticed the webbing that connected his stinger to his claw had been severed; each end was slowly being devoured by flames that inched up the adhesive thread, heedless of the raging storm. On reflex, the aeroscorp flitted about and eventually snuffed out the flames before they reached his carapace.

"A warning would've been nice," Gliscor said huffily.

"Would you have stayed still if I had told you?" Rampardos replied.

Gliscor opened his mouth as if to say something, thought about it for a second, then promptly closed it. "Point made."

"Thought so." Rampardos smirked.

"Wait, if you can just burn the webbing, why haven't you done it for the thing holding the ship?"

"I thought the same thing, but Onix"—the mention of the stone snake's name was punctuated by the explosion of another house in the distance—"said that the fire could end up doing more harm than good to that flying metal thing and the humans inside. He thinks that whatever makes their webs sticky also makes it burn really well."

"Guess that makes sense." Gliscor sighed, looking at the burnt strands from his claw.

"Speaking of…" Rampardos murmured, tilting his head to get a look at the central strand that anchored the aircraft, several strands extending from the central cord and linking it to the surrounding houses. "How's it going up there?"

"Not good! There's a group of Ariados climbing up the strand to get on the ship. Staravia's doing his best but with so many attacking him, he can only dodge and make attacks that'll slow them down. Every time I come up to help they try and web me or knock me down with a wall of needles."

Rampardos nodded then looked around, watching Onix plow through another house that helped anchor the aircraft to the ground. "It won't be too much longer until we finish off these houses and all we'll have to deal with is that big strand. Onix plans on weakening the ground at the base of that web column and though they'll be carrying a lot of sand and silk, they'll able to fly away.

"This sandstorm won't be going for too much longer and the moment it ends, I'm sure these buggers are gonna hit us with every web and needle they've been holding before Onix can start a new one. Hopefully your group and mine will be gone by then."

"Here's hoping," Gliscor replied, trying to force some optimism into his voice.

"Tell you what; let me give you a boost."

"Thanks, but I can get back up there with my tail." The aeroscorp waved his claw.

"I know you can, but with all this wind and sand, you start slowing down before you actually breach the surface of the storm."

Gliscor's gaze traveled up the strand until he couldn't see it through the haze of sand before breathing out and closing his eyes.

"Okay what did you have in mind?"

Rampardos smiled. "Hold onto my head and get ready to jump."

Gliscor did as he was told, grabbing hold of Rampardos's horns and coiling against the hard surface of the Head Butt pokémon's blue crown. The Head Butt pokémon broke into a run that lasted a few seconds before slammed his tail into the ground and catapulted into the air. The aeroscorp was astonished at how high Rampardos's leap had carried them but he didn't have time to ponder the thoughts before Rampardos spoke.

"Now!" Rampardos roared. Gliscor took the hint and extended his tail with all of his strength. The aeroscorp rocketed through the air, feeling the sting of the sand as he flew faster than he had ever gone. The prickling passed once he burst through the sand cloud and saw the aircraft once more, but what he saw filled him with dread.

Staravia was plummeting towards the sandstorm.

While Gliscor had seen him do that a dozen times, only to shift the angle of his wings at the last second and fly back up with a sudden burst of speed, there was something off this time. Upon closer examination, the angle at which he fell was completely wrong.

Rave's wings hung at his sides, his head curled inward as his body slowly turned during his fall. Gliscor's vision shimmered then reddened as Staravia's body faced him and revealed a glowing purple needle embedded in his chest.

The Ariados were now atop the aircraft, circling what looked like shards of ice. The aeroscorp thrust out his arms to slow his ascent, twirling through the air and screaming as he soared back towards the vessel.

* * *

**A few moments earlier...**

"Tell me again why we can't just hit them with our needles anymore?" Zukus demanded, jamming his foreleg into the seam of the top hatch on the aircraft's roof.

"When they dropped the eggsack holding your brood, did your egg break the fall? Honestly! It's because of you and your stupid group that we have to deal with those rock beasts and a fucking sandstorm!" Ilzbe hissed, pointing at the swirling sands below them.

"Don't get your web so tangled. I didn't lead the charge! Go hiss at Sniknej and Yoreel," Zukus snapped, glancing up from his work to keep an eye on the Staravia that darted around them.

"There's no point in yelling at them now because they're dead and it's all because those stupid silkspitters went and charged in headfirst and got slaughtered! I know your swarm recently joined ours, but this is what happens when you don't consult Kailob on how he wanted to do this! We could've done this quietly, stealthily!" Ilzbe continued to rant.

"Why does Kailob even want _these_ humans alive anyway? My group captured plenty of humans from the town over." Zukus's voice strained as he struggled to find purchase along the seams.

"Because unlike you and your group, Kailob can think of the long-term goals. If you poison them with one of our stings then they liquefy, which is fine for a meal. If we just kill without poison, then once again that's only good for a meal or two. But if you keep them alive and drain'em a little bit at a time, then you can keep them for longer. All you need to do is give them a little water every day and they can last you a month."

"Don't we have enough?"

Ilzbe responded with a withering stare. "You know what, maybe you're right. Maybe we have all the food we need. Let's just spit our web at the spinning things that are keeping this thing above the ground, let it crash, burn, and kill all the potential food inside and head back to the forest. Then when we start dividing up the food amongst the swarm, I'll let Kailob know you didn't want extra food, so you and your brood can make do with less while the rest of us have an equal share."

"Okay, I get it!" Zukus growled, jamming his stinger into the seam.

"Maybe if it were just for us, then I might be inclined to agree with you. But some of us have offspring we need to feed and there's no telling how long it'll be before we find food again."

"It just a few humans and their warriors, we're losing a lot for getting so little back." Zukus worked his stinger back and forth as he tried to pry the hatch open.

"Kailob said every drop of blood counts," Ilzbe replied, to which the other Ariados rolled their eyes. "Maybe look at it this way, the more we _lose_, the more food for the rest of us and our offspring." Ilzbe's piercing glare and clicking mandibles silenced the dissention within the ranks.

"Now when Zukus finally pries that damn thing open, remember what I told you."

"String shots only." Everyone groaned in unison.

"Excellent, now could somebody please tell the others to kill that thing." Ilzbe motioned with her head towards the darting figure of Staravia. A group of Ariados further down the strand had been dedicated to keeping the flying pokémon busy and at bay. Though if truth be told, their orders to avoid killing it were the only thing that had kept it alive.

"Thought you said every drop of blood counts," an Ariados echoed in a mocking tone.

"Those creatures have barely enough blood to be a decent snack and Kailob won't miss one bird. So could one of you kindly let the others know?" Ilzbe didn't mention that one of the Staravia's earlier attacks had nicked her face and anything that hindered her ability to mate with Kailob was a transgression that only death could fix. She let the question hang in the air and watched the group until one of them stepped forward and descended down to the others.

"Hey, I'm almost through!" Zukus announced. "The rest of you ready?" He looked back for confirmation.

The rest of their group nodded silently and braced themselves while their mandibles twitched in anticipation. Zukus nodded back and stabbed at newly formed gap in the metallic seam, wedging his stinger deeper before lifting with all his legs and popping the hatch off the aircraft. Luckily, half of his work had been done for him with several holes having already been punched through the ceiling.

Uza, one of the more hungry and eager Ariados peeked his head in — only to immediately have his skull cleaved nearly in two by a silver blade at the end of a yellow creature from inside.

The creature darted back through the hole so quickly that no one was entirely sure what, if anything, had had happened. Their doubts were immediately dismissed when watery gurgles sounded in their midst. While a lethal blow, it hadn't instantly killed its target, leaving Uza to make wet screeches as his legs scrambled in place.

Ilzbe pushed him through the hatch where he crumpled onto the ground and elicited a few screams from inside. Uza's suffering was short-lived as only seconds after slamming into the ground he was blasted by a thin blue beam and frozen on the spot, an opening Zukus took to make his strike.

Peering inside, he could see three humans hugging the wall at the end of the room. The tallest one sported blue hair atop her head and cradled in her embrace was what he could only imagine was her offspring.

The other small human stood off to the side with the yellow creature that had brought about Uza's demise standing guard over him. The two made eye contact, Pikachu dared him to try and make any move against the human behind him. Zukus knew of electric types and considering the boost in power everyone had experienced, wanted no direct quarrel with that creature. Before the mother and child was a small, brown creature Zukus recognized as a Buneary currently in the process of freezing Uza's carcass..

"_So it's between the short or tall one_," Zukus mused for a moment before deciding to take the path of least resistance. By the time Buneary registered the adhesive thread, it was already too late. In a surprising feat of speed that even Zukus had to admire, Johanna shoved her daughter out of the String Shot's path and took her place.

Dawn had been his initial target, being smaller and therefore easier to reel out of the aircraft. But the promise of more meat was a prospect that Zukus wasn't about to pass up. Buneary's first instinct was to freeze the strand, but fear of flash-freezing anything — or in this case — anyone connected to it made her hesitate. Zukus leapt back, launching another String Shot from his spinneret onto another part of the aircraft and pulling himself back with his hind legs.

* * *

Pikachu's tail flashed into steel as he prepared to leap over and cut the strand. That was, until he saw the head of another Ariados peek in through the hatch and take aim at his oldest friend. If he moved, it would leave Ash open to any attack the Ariados threw at him. He froze, wondering which attacker to strike. He flashed back to the hateful words Piplup and the rest of Dawn's team had spat at him upon learning of Ambipom's death. No matter who he saved, he imagined cruel, cutting words from everyone aboard.

That moment's hesitation was all Zukus needed to pull Johanna up to the roof but she seemed to halt as if Ariados had second thoughts. At the last second, Johanna threw out her arms out, grabbing one of the ceiling handholds installed in case of turbulence. Dawn's piercing scream threatened to deafen everyone in the room. The girl's arms were outstretched, as if to pull her mother back, but her body was frozen in place.

Johanna looked at her daughter's face, watched her screaming herself hoarse with tears pouring down her cheeks and a horrified expression that she had never seen in the decade of raising Dawn. That look of unadulterated fear wasn't the last image she wanted to have of her daughter but the forceful tug from the webbing on her back reminded her that harsh reality sought to make it so. Her hands were scrabbling across the ceiling for purchase, the strength of her limbs quickly waning beneath the tireless efforts of the Ariados outside.

Another powerful yank nearly pulled her out of the hatch; her fingertips now the only things anchoring her to the interior. She looked to Ash and saw the shock in his eyes consumed by a fire of determination that compelled him to move. Bursting into motion, he ran across the room, vaulting the row of chairs and leaping at her, his hand reaching out towards her own.

One of the Ariados took aim, only to watch the world spin when Pikachu's Iron Tail knocked its head off. A vicious pull reeled Johanna's left arm back with her right arm soon following. Ash was close enough to see the reflection in his eyes, his lips forming words that told her to grab his hand.

"Take care of my daughter."

Those were Johanna's last words before her hand gave out and her body soared out beyond Ash's reach. The boy from Pallet crashed back onto the rows of chairs as the sudden slack in his arm threw him backwards. He gritted his teeth as the awkward landing twisted his ankle, sending a white blanket of pain over everything except for Dawn's wails.

* * *

"Bun, seal it off, like you did with the windows!" Pikachu yelled as he landed atop one of the chairs.

Buneary stared at him blankly for a few precious seconds. "But she's out ther—"

"And she won't be the only one if you don't seal that opening with ice!" Pikachu yelled, hating himself for what he was forcing Buneary to do. He felt a shadow fall upon him; the presence of another entity registered. On reflex, he bounded off the chair and went into a spin, splitting the body of the Ariados above him in two with the swipe of his metallic tail.

Pikachu was still twirling through the air when he noticed his victim's body falling around him. It was after his strike that he noticed another Ariados had replaced the one he had killed. With no way to dodge whilst in midair, Pikachu wracked his brain for his next move.

Had he still possessed the connection to his element, he would've welcomed the attack; anything that came in contact with him would be dangerously electrified. Seeing as he no longer had command over his element, he would have to get creative.

Or he would've, if a rush of cold hadn't flood the room. The electric mouse landed on one of the front seats and turned to see a chandelier of ice crystals covering the hatch. Frozen in midair was the sticky thread aimed at him.

Pikachu lowered his gaze to see Buneary staring at him, a multitude of expressions fighting for dominance on her face. Flickers of anger, sadness and pain were the most frequent, especially as the voice of her coordinator filled the room. She turned away from him to see Dawn dissolving into puddle of unintelligible whimpers. Brock slid the door open and exited the cockpit, leaving Croagunk to guard the hole in the windshield with Jessie and James.

"What ha—" Brock began before his voice faltered as he took in the scene. In the span of a few seconds, everything had changed and it wasn't hard for him to figure out what happened.

Pikachu watched Brock move past him and Ash before backpedaling to look at the fallen trainer. Ash waved him away, hisses of pain escaping as he grimaced and clutched his leg.

Brock took the hint and moved over to Dawn. He looked around the cabin one last time to assure himself that Johanna was no longer with them. A chorus of muffled screams filtered through the ice. Whether it was the Ariados, Johanna or a mixture was anyone's guess.

All the while Pikachu stared at the ice that covered the ceiling hatch. A single sentence repeated itself endlessly in his mind. "_I saved the others, I saved the others, I saved the others, I sav_…"

* * *

"I got one!" Zukus crowed, reeling the human in with his forelimbs but noting that she had gone strangely quiet and still. "_A little tug like that couldn't have killed her_?" he thought as he wrapped the strand around his forelimb and scuttled closer to her.

"And it looks like you're gonna be the only one," Yazeed, one of the other Ariados, replied with a click of his mandibles.

"Why's th—oh!" Zukus lifted his gaze from his catch to see the spot where he'd pried the hatch open, now covered in a blossom of spiky icicles. More surprising than that was Ilzbe, who had launched her own String Shot into the interior. Whatever had sealed the hatch with ice had caught Ilzbe's attack in the process. As a result the ice traveled up its new vector and into Ilzbe's body. Her coloration was dull and dark. All moisture in her body had expanded and cracked her exoskeleton. A thin layer of frost coated her face as a pair of glassy and lifeless eyes staring back at him.

"I always pegged her as a frigid bitch, but that's just funny!" Yazeed cackled as he pointed at Ilzbe's frozen corpse.

Zukus threw him a look of somewhere between "_Too soon_," and "_Seriously_?" The look only lasted a few seconds before he sighed and nodded.

Yazeed continued, ignoring Zukus's glare. "How much you wanna bet this Kailob guy doesn't even notice she's gone?" The comment managed to get a chuckle out of Zukus before he stared at the ice crystals.

"So you wanna keep going for those humans?" His answer came in the form of Yazeed shaking his head.

"No thanks. I think I'm good. Now with Ilzbe gone, I say we pack it up and make for the woods. Word on the web says Kharzouz had himself a nice little cache. I'd say his share is more than enough to make up for whatever we're losing by leaving these humans alone."

Zukus couldn't disagree with that logic. Though he figured it didn't hurt that he'd already caught himself a human even at the cost of three other Ariados.

"Got'em!" another Ariados cried, catching the group's attention. Noticing everyone's stares, he pointed off into the distance where Staravia's body fell lifelessly into the sandstorm.

"Nice." The group murmured and nodded in approval until something burst out from the sandstorm and began to scream.

"Oh what now!?" Yazeed groaned as the dark figure hurtled towards the ship, barreling through river of Poison Stings. Two lights flashed around Yazeed; Gliscor's scream being the signal they needed to strike. Zukus was about to retaliate until something slammed into his head and knocked him back. Johanna's foot hung in the air for a few seconds until she scrambled back onto her feet behind Umbreon. Dark shadows misted off of Glameow's paw before swiped at Yazeed's head, slicing through his head and throat with little effort.

Gliscor crashed into one of the Ariados, clutching its head in his claws and crushing it. Another Ariados fired a String Shot at him from behind; thinking the aeroscorp's back was unguarded. In a blur of movement, Gliscor spun around and blocked the adhesive string with his hostage. The Ariados's head exploded in his purple claw; the rest of the body was tossed off the side of the ship.

By the time the Ariados cut the line to avoid following the corpse down to the ground, Gliscor was already next to him. The Ariados tried to dart away but Gliscor had already clamped onto his forelimbs. Before the Ariados could even release any needles or silk, Gliscor ripped off the legs and stabbed them into the unfortunate arachnid's thorax in a single fluid motion.

Any screams that would've made it past his mandibles were forced back into his throat when Gliscor's tail slammed into his face and dropped him onto his back. Beaten and battered, the fallen Ariados was far from hurting anyone for a long time; a fact that didn't seem to register with Gliscor as he continued to slam his tail into the arachnid's face, caving in its head deeper with every blow. Pieces of chitin flew into the air as he brought his claws into play; the mist around him grew denser with every spray of ichor.

"You bastards! Which one of you bastards killed him?" Gliscor roared, having no idea if the one he was pummeling into paste was responsible for Staravia's death, but in his rage, he couldn't care less. The gory display not only unnerved the existing Ariados but Glameow and Umbreon as well. Zukus backed away slowly, Umbreon's yellow rings glowing in full force. Outmatched and outnumbered, Zukus looked over the edge of aircraft to the swirling sands below and decided to take his chances with the storm. At first, he lamented that he had given up his meal, but a brief glance at his forelimb reminded him that all was not lost.

He briefly planted his spinneret onto the aircraft's surface before leaping off and disappearing over the side. Johanna was about to allow herself a sigh of relief. Only to have it interrupted when the webbing on her back tightened and spun her around.

Glameow turned upon hearing her coordinator slam into the roof and slide towards the edge as if being dragged by some invisible force. By the time Umbreon registered what was happening, Johanna had already fallen away from view.

Both of them sprinted towards the edge to see the Ariados hanging from a thread, hanging even lower was Johanna, dangling just above the vortex of shifting sands. Zukus quickly pulled his catch into his spindly embrace, Johanna screaming all the while.

"If he hurts a single hair on her head…" Umbreon seethed, every one of Johanna's cries another knife in her heart.

"He won't. He knows his life is forfeit otherwise. He's gonna hold her hostage until he can get away," Glameow said. She looked over the situation and added, "He's too high up to simply jump — assuming that sandstorm doesn't just tear him apart — and anything he could use to swing away from danger is too far away."

"Any attack I use would put Johanna at risk. If I cut him loose then Johanna follows him down. We don't even have a way to get down there to catch her or bring her back up here," Umbreon growled.

"There might still be a way to save her," Glameow replied before bounding away from the edge.

Umbreon turned her head towards Gliscor who was still in the process of pummeling the Ariados corpses.

"Breaking them any more won't bring your friend back, darling. Right now my coordinator is about to die, and you're the only one here who can save her." Glameow motioned with a coiled tail over to where Umbreon stood. Gliscor held the Ariados's lifeless husk in his claw for a few seconds, staring into its empty glossy eye before quietly nodding and throwing over the side to be consumed by the raging sands. He moved over to the edge with dark Eeveelution and looked down.

"I can reach her, but I don't think I'd be able to cut through that silk," the aeroscorp replied after studying the situation for a few seconds.

"Let us handle that darling. Would you be strong enough to fly her back here?"

"I can't fly like…Staravia." The wince as he mentioned his dead teammate didn't go unnoticed by the duo. "I can glide down there and catch her, but getting back up here would require me to dip into the sandstorm to catch some air or go to ground and launch off my tail."

Glameow and Umbreon traded concerned looks for a moment.

"Rampardos said the storm should end any minute. I can keep her completely covered from the sand with my wings until then and jump back to meet you guys back here once it's done."

"That still doesn't solve our other problem. The second he sees you coming, he'll kill Johanna." Umbreon glared down at the Ariados who seemed content to calmly hang off the ship until the situation changed for his benefit.

"Couldn't we just go and get the others?" Gliscor offered.

"Two things: can you break that ice quickly without damaging the ship and do we have time? You said the sandstorm will be done soon. By the time we mobilize, he could be gone."

"I have an idea," Glameow interjected, causing the other two to look at her. "We just have to make sure he only sees our flying friend." She smirked

* * *

A solid minute passed until Johanna stopped screaming and sobbing. She noted that the Ariados holding her hadn't tried to harm her in any way. She looked up to see her two pokémon and one of Ash's own peering over at her from the edge of the aircraft. The Ariados was watching them too, hisses and clicks emanating from its mandible. A language unintelligible — at least to her human ears. All three pokémon suddenly disappeared from view.

At least for a few seconds until a dark figure darted across the sky.

The Ariados glanced back and forth between the aircraft's edge and the Gliscor that veered back and flew at them. Atop Gliscor was her Umbreon, the golden rings of fur on her body glowing so intensely that they had turned from yellow to a blinding white. The Ariados hissed loudly at them and while the sound alone would've normally made her faint, Johanna steeled herself for what was to come.

Gliscor and Umbreon were only a few meters away when Glameow landed on Ariados from above and swiped at his throat with a shadowy paw in one smooth motion. Johanna felt the arachnid's legs around her body loosen before she started to slip completely from his hold. The light around Umbreon's tail condensed into a series of searing stars and zipped ahead, effortlessly slicing through the Ariados' adhesive strands connecting them. Gliscor rolled to face his belly towards the sky as he glided, signaling Umbreon to jump.

Johanna couldn't help but scream as she fell towards the sandstorm; the presence of her Glameow falling beside her providing little comfort. Gliscor dove down, tucking Umbreon into his left arm as he adjusted his descent to fall parallel to Johanna and Glameow. Their paths eventually crossed, with Glameow reeling herself into Johanna's embrace with her tail while Gliscor wrapped himself around Johanna's form.

Wind and grit battered Gliscor as he dove through the sandstorm, nearly throwing him off balance when he spun around to angle his tail towards the ground. The impact of the landing was surprisingly soft; enough that Johanna was pleasantly surprised that they had stopped moving. Gliscor slowly lowered himself onto the sand, coiling his tail to spring up at a moment's notice.

Just as Rampardos predicted, the storm didn't last much longer. The sand and winds settled down a minute after Gliscor's landing. The aeroscorp slowly unfurled his wings; Glameow and Umbreon darted out of the gap to take on any potential attackers while Johanna stumbled out of Gliscor's embrace to look at what was left of her town.

Johanna's gasp seemed to be the loudest thing on the planet in the all-encompassing silence that hung over the town. Umbreon and Glameow risked a glance back at their coordinator, watching her take in deep gulps of air as she advanced a few steps in one direction and then retreated in another.

The coordinator's memories filled in the smoldering ruins of her town. Like hazy ghosts, the houses reemerged whole in her mind's eye. Simulacra of friends and neighbors she had known for years and who had been there for her when she was raising Dawn wandered the streets. Craters and gouges became immaculate gardens and roads. To her, it seemed as if she were waking from a nightmare, but the bitter, burning bite of the smoke and sand-choked air reminded her that the Twinleaf she was seeing was but an illusion from her memories and that the real Twinleaf had been all but erased off the map by a horde of Ariados.

She blinked as she took in the remains of her town and gaped silently as she surveyed the smoldering piles of rubble and the Ariados skittering over the wreckage. Johanna tried to wrap her head around the fact that in less than an hour, her daughter and herself had become the last survivors of Twinleaf Town and that all she knew had been burnt to the ground.

Her house exploding at that very moment did nothing to help her come to terms with the grim reality.

* * *

Roark dove into Dawn's room and rolled until he hit the foot of her bed, every rotation giving him a glimpse of Geodude slamming the door behind them. A tiny part of him that wasn't utterly consumed with fear and survival was proud that he had held out against the swarm for as long as he had. His body ached from the continuous, abrupt and brutal movements he'd gone through; any energy he had left was nearly spent just getting up off the ground.

The sweat pouring out of every pore mixed with the mud that coated his skin and clothes. The mud was a last-second innovation from Geodude. For some reason the Ariados were limiting themselves to String Shots when they aimed at him. Considering the rain of needles they'd unleashed against them in the beginning, Roark wouldn't have been surprised if they had simply run out of energy to keep producing that move.

Seeing as Geodude wouldn't be able to stop every attack from coming through and striking Roark, he decided to find a way to nullify it in the form of the move Mud Sport. The miner —accustomed to being showered with dust and debris from the mines — found little discomfort in being coated in a thin coat of mud, especially with the results that it provided.

Sticky strings that managed to land on him simply slipped off, the layer of wet mud giving them nothing solid to adhere to. Geodude had done the same to himself and so, in a perverse parody of a gym battle, trainer fought alongside pokémon. The duo slaughtered a seemingly infinite swarm of Ariados that stormed up to the second floor. Despite their best efforts, something was bound to give.

Geodude's punches were coming slower; Roark's slashes and strikes with his shovel grew clumsier. For every Ariados they killed, another was ready to take its place. Over time, their numbers became too great and the duo were forced to retreat back into one of the rooms.

The animate rock was already piling furniture against the door but the Ariados were already making their own entrances through the walls. The rock pokémon spun to face his trainer, giving him a good, long look and a tired smile. Roark's knees trembled as he pushed himself to his feet with Johanna's shovel, using it like an old man would his cane. Geodude's gaze drifted over to the window behind him and noticed that the air was free from sand.

Geodude rolled past Roark, smashed the window with his fist and quickly scanned the sandblasted base of the house and even climbed out to peer over at the roof before he swung back inside. He perched onto the windowsill and steadied himself with one hand and extended his free hand to Roark.

The gym leader got the memo and took the stony hand. He stumbled towards the window and his stomach fell upon seeing the long drop towards the sand covered ground. Roark looked back, seeing a pair of mandibles poking through the wood and decided that his chances outside were better. Geodude wrenched the shovel out of Roark's hands and threw it out the window. Roark watched it soar through the air until it sheathed itself into the sandy soil several meters away.

Before he could ask why his weapon had been thrown away Geodude grabbed him by the hand, yanked him through the window and held him aloft. Roark yelled from the sudden movement and gritted his teeth as he dangled a few meters from the ground. The rock pokémon slowly lowered himself down from the windowsill until he was holding on with the tips of his stony fingers. By that point there was only meter between Roark's feet and the ground when Geodude let go.

Roark grunted and staggered back as the shock of the landing ran through his body but with Geodude's help, the fall hadn't been as bad as it could have been. The rock pokémon grumbled his name and pointed at gym leader. When Roark didn't move, Geodude lifted his finger and pointed repeatedly towards the shovel. Roark took the hint and made his way towards the tool. He was only halfway there when he decided to look back, expecting Geodude to close the distance and catch up with him.

What he didn't expect to see was an incandescent white sphere inside the window he had just escaped from. The miner put the pieces together and stopped in his tracks, taking a step back towards the house. Roark was about to scream out when a blinding white light filled his vision. A wall of force and sand then followed, slamming into him and hurling him along the sandy ground. He skidded a few meters before he came to a stop. His vision swam with black and purple dots. His stomach whirled as he threatened to spew the sand that he'd swallowed on his brief tumble.

All that was left of Johanna's house was a smoking pile of rubble. Chunks of burning rock and debris from Johanna's home rained across the ruined field of what was once Twinleaf. His balance warped and the strength in his arms spent, the act of lifting himself up with his own arms became next to impossible. Roark slumped back down to the ground and screamed.

But either it wasn't loud enough or he couldn't hear it over the ringing in his ears.

* * *

The earth rumbled as Onix erupted from the ground. He immediately noted the distinct lack of sand in the air. Rampardos trudged out from the remains of one of the last remaining houses that anchored the aircraft to the town.

"All that's left is the central one," Rampardos said, swinging his head over the yellow column of sand coated silk.

"I'm not sure any of my moves could cut through it, at least not without affecting the flying metal thing," the stone snake grumbled.

Rampardos was about to comment when the house where Roark and Geodude were holding out disappeared within a dome of sound and light. The sand beneath them shifted from the blast and the two were left gawking at the sight. Both of them bounded over, stopping several meters short of the actual house when they found Roark's body.

"Geo wouldn't have–" Rampardos began.

"—he would if it meant keeping Roark safe," Onix interjected, having known Geodude a lot longer than the resurrected fossil ever had.

"I hope he took all those bastards with him!"

"Not all of them!" an Ariados yelled as he burst out from the shadows and unleashed a black bolt of lightning from his horn. The tendril of Night Shade speared through Onix's stony midsection and continued into the distance. Glameow and Umbreon noticed the attack heading towards them and tackled Johanna to the ground as it slashed through where her head would have been an instant before.

The umbral bolt faded from sight by the time Umbreon looked up to see if any more attacks were coming. Rampardos retaliated on reflex, filling the field with a cone of flame that forced the Ariados to retreat into the woods. Umbreon glanced back to see if Gliscor had moved out in time and felt her spirit plummet when the aeroscorp stared blankly back at her. A hole drilled through the center of his skull.

Onix and Gliscor's bodies fell at the same time and while Onix's body caused the earth to shudder, Gliscor's fall had the most impact on Johanna's aces. The time to grieve was cut short when a new choir of hisses erupted from the forest. More Ariados started pouring out from the woods, launching volleys of silk as they scurried over.

Onix groaned, rolling onto what would've been considered his belly and began to rotate, only to stop when he realized Roark was no with them and had no cover from the sand. "Take Roark!" Onix coughed before his body sunk into the sand and disappearing from sight.

Rampardos moved over to the fallen gym leader, crouching slightly to pick him up as he turned and ran towards what appeared to be Gliscor, a human, and two other pokémon he hadn't seen before. Once he was close enough to them, he placed Roark on the ground and turned to face the second wave of Ariados still scuttling to them.

"Any long range moves you have would be really useful right about now!" Rampardos exclaimed before using the last of his energy over the fire element to raise a wall of fire.

* * *

"Umbreon, Glameow, use Swift on that central strand. Aim for the base of it on the belly of the ship!" Johanna commanded, struggling to keep her voice calm. The two did as they were told, understanding the implications and the outcome and accepting them readily.

Stars flew from their tails, spinning through the air and slicing away at the thick trunk of webbing beneath the aircraft. Like a massive redwood, the tower of silk buckled and fell just as several thinner strands flew from the swarm to try and take its place. Another salvo of stars was quick to intercept the strands and keep them from reaching their target.

Roark pushed himself to a sitting position and watched as Team Rocket's aircraft moved away, gaining some distance with its newfound freedom. To his surprise, it was moving slower than he expected. He could only imagine the chaos going on inside, the conflict of emotions and interests. Or was it easy for them? To leave him and Johanna behind to save their skins? He couldn't really blame them; he had done just the same with the people of Oreburgh. Part of him couldn't help but be bitter that they were leaving him behind but the other half knew that he had chosen to stay.

"I wasn't like you," Roark muttered as he turned to see Johanna beside him. Her entire body was shaking as he gave orders, tears streaming down her face as she watched the aircraft disappear into the horizon. Rampardos's fire wall eventually died down and revealed the sea of spiders that had gathered there. Glameow and Umbreon redirected their efforts, summoning as many stars as they could muster.

* * *

Glameow targeted the actual Ariados while Umbreon aimed at the adhesive threads being fired at them.

"Never thought it would end like this darling," Glameow said, doing her best to force some cheer into her voice.

"Same. Who would've figured I'd go down beside a cat," Umbreon replied, the poison sweat making her fur appear glossy and slick.

"How about beside a friend?"

Umbreon was quiet for a few heartbeats before allowing herself to do something she hadn't done in years.

Regardless all the chaos around them, despite the fact that their situation owed all their focus and attention, Glameow didn't miss Umbreon's smirk and nod.

"Yeah, I could do that." The Moonlight Pokémon chuckled; the sound alone was enough to make Glameow redouble her efforts and light a tiny spark of hope that they might somehow make it through the night.

* * *

Johanna kept her focus off into the night sky; Team Rocket's ship having since disappeared from sight. She spoke the words she knew her daughter would never hear but hoped that she would always know in her heart.

"Go and be safe. You're going to have to be strong now. I love you. Momma loves you so much, sweetie." Johanna dropped to her knees and sobbed as Umbreon and Glameow inched backwards in response to the horde of arachnids. Rampardos wasn't doing much better. He was out of fire moves and having to make do with physical strikes. While one Ariados was being killed, another took advantage of the opening and hit him with a String Shot.

The moment the thoroughly webbed Rampardos hit the ground, Roark had his pokéball at the ready. With his ace pokémon gone, there wasn't much else to stand between him and the wave of Ariados that realized their catch was now gone. Umbreon could only glare at the Ariados that now surrounded them while those behind them were feasting on Gliscor's fallen body. Glameow risked a glance back at Johanna. Tears quietly poured down the coordinator's face as she stared blankly into the distance.

Seeing that opening, the Ariados lunged at their targets as one and the in next second all Johanna, her pokemon and Roark saw was darkness.

* * *

**Next Chapter: Cruise Control**


	12. Cruise Control

**Once again, a much deserved thanks to Zarrelion for his help on the chapter. **

**I apologize for the delay but I do bring some good news. I haven't been completely idle during the delay and have a few chapters lined up for the month of April. **

* * *

**August 18**

The seemingly endless expanse of the sea stretched out before them, seamlessly merging into the dark sky. No stars twinkled above them tonight; dark clouds had taken over the night sky and left them in a lightless void. James thought the inky blackness a fitting accompaniment to his mood, but found that same darkness tempting him to sleep. He technically could have given in and caught some much wanted rest; Giovanni's personal transport had an autopilot system that was doing most of the flying for him.

What concerned him was their fuel. Their desperate attempts to break free from the Ariados's silken lines and the subsequent full-throttle sprint away from Twinleaf Town burnt up most of their fuel. Even flying at the speed that was just above the aircraft's stall speed; James doubted that they could reach Kanto on the fuel alone. And running the engines solely on the Zarrel ion battery — and turning the tilt-rotor into a flying bomb waiting go to off — was an option he'd consider only if they were literally going to die in that moment.

The needle hovered perilously close to the empty end of the fuel gauge. They had been flying in complete silence for the last hour and for at least half of that time; James had been waging a war against his drooping eyelids. His eyes lazily drifted to the clock.

It was three in the morning with still no sign of dawn on the horizon.

James flinched at the thought of the aircraft exploding over the ocean and looked back at the closed door separating the cockpit and the rest of the aircraft. The last two hours had been filled with wails and sobs. Mainly from the twerpette; not that James could blame her for doing so. He'd seen what having a parent should've been like and for some time he'd experienced what many others did when he was too young to have anyone expect anything out of him.

He'd gone through the sadness and grief when his parents had faked their own death to lure him back home. Before that had happened he had thought that learning the demise of his parents would've made him happy. He'd be finally free from their oppressive shadow. But if were to be truly honest with himself, he was running away from shame.

The shame of never trying to live up to their expectations.

If they were gone the only expectations he'd have to live up to would be Jessebelle's and with James the only living heir left to inherit the estate and their fortune; he could only imagine she'd double her efforts to try and find and marry him. The planets must've aligned poorly as Jessie took that moment to reach over and touch his hand. It was meant to be a comforting gesture but the effect was akin to having the twerp's Pikachu shock him.

James flinched and pulled his hand out of the way; his heart rate soared until his eyes met Jessie's own. He reached for the mask that kept the wind from his face and turned in his seat to face her.

"Sorry…I was…somewhere else," James replied.

"Not surprising," she whispered. "Wish we could be as comfortable as him." She pointed to the bundle of sleeping fur on the floor between their seats when James arched an eyebrow.

James glanced down and couldn't help but feel a bit envious that Meowth was able to sleep after everything they went through. That was until the cat gave a distressed groan in his sleep and lazily moved his arms to fight off something in his dreams.

"Couldn't sleep?" James asked. He saw his partner shake her head.

"A lot on my mind," Jessie replied, her eyes darting briefly towards the door.

"Yeah…" James then lowered his gaze and sent the room back to relative silence.

"You know it wasn't your fault."

"That doesn't change that we left her."

"If we had gone down to get her, we probably wouldn't have made it out," Jessie said. It was a cool logical statement of truth but it still stung James to hear it.

"Tell that to the twerps," James muttered back.

"She'll be okay."

"And how do you…" James cut himself off as he remembered that Jessie wasn't the only one to have lost her mother.

Jessie thought back to when she was a little girl. When the men in dark suits came to her home and informed her that her mother had died in the snow of some far-off land. "I'd like to think I turned out okay." Jessie eventually continued. "Besides, she had a good home and she has the twerps as friends."

"I think it's exactly that reason why she won't be able to handle it as well as we have. There were other things in our lives that made us tougher, more capable of handling these rough patches but she hasn't had to deal with anything nearly as difficult."

"So what do you want to do then?" Jessie growled. "Be her therapists, give her hugs and kisses and tell her everything is going to be okay?"

Her partner's face remained passive as he spoke, "Would you have liked someone to have done that for you when you were at your lowest?"

Her anger melted away with that simple question and for a moment, she was the little girl who cried her eyes out and refused to believe that her mother would have left her to live in an orphanage.

Jessie eventually relented. "I… would've liked that," she said, her voice soft and quiet. "But we're not the people to give that to her. I seriously doubt she wants that kind of help from the likes of us."

James nodded with a sigh and turned to face the ocean. It was then he noticed something twinkle in the distance.

* * *

A few minutes of flying towards the light source revealed it to be a massive luxury cruise ship. James slowly circled the ship as if to inspect it. Much to his surprise, the ship had almost no damage to its superstructure and all the cabin lights were still on. He noticed that the pools and mini-golf course atop the ship were completely empty. Not surprising, given that it was just slightly after three in the morning. Upon completing the circuit around the ship, James noticed an open helipad on the ship's stern. Since their communications equipment had been destroyed by Yanmega back by Hearthome, he hoped that whoever was in charge understood that they wanted to land.

James placed the aircraft into a holding pattern using the cruise ship as the marker while Jessie looked around for something to get their attention. Part of him wanted to bypass the pleasantries and protocols and land, permission be damned. His Team Rocket aviation training demanded otherwise.

The most feared element aboard ship was fire. An aircraft like what he was piloting carried enough fuel to turn a ship into a floating firestorm. Even more dangerous than the wisps of aviation fuel in the tank was the Zarrel ion battery — the ubiquitous power source of Team Rocket's vehicles and equipment — onboard their craft.

As a result of their widespread use along with their enormous potential for destruction, Team Rocket instructors emphasized that anything to do with the ZIB was to be done strictly by the book. To further drive the point home, recruits were shown pictures and videos that showed the inevitably grisly aftermath of a Zarrel ion battery detonation. And yet, despite all this instruction leaving the recruits with a healthy respect — or even fear — of these powerful batteries, there were always cocksure Rocket grunts who decided to ignore the warnings that had been beaten into their heads during training.

James had seen those clips as a recruit. The one that stuck out to him currently was one where a damaged Team Rocket helicopter attempted to land on a barge.

Key word was _attempted. _The resultant explosion was felt over ten kilometers away.

James involuntarily shivered. He already had a death toll attached to him and the last thing he wanted to do was add to it

Apparently, the just the sight of the tilt-rotor following the ship had gotten the crew's attention. The wake behind the ship vanished as the ship slowed and the helipad came alive with activity. James saw that as permission to land and he aligned his aircraft with the ship, letting the autopilot do most of the heavy lifting. He saw a large number of the crew gathered around the helipad. Those that weren't helping hold a fire hose at the ready had several fire extinguishers on hand.

James let out a sigh of relief when he finally felt the aircraft's wheels touch the platform. He slumped into his seat as he killed the engines. Sensing the lack of movement Meowth began to stir, lifting himself onto his legs and looking around.

"Whas' goin' on?" Meowth's words came out in a sleepy slur as he yawned. He stretched out as he tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

"We found a ship," James replied.

* * *

The next few hours were a blur for Brock once Jessie managed to rouse him and the others from their slumber. Two days of stressful situations and with barely any sleep had finally taken their toll and cast him into a dreamless slumber. Dawn had stopped crying out of sheer exhaustion and she too had fallen into a mercifully dreamless sleep. Brock was tempted to punch Jessie when she had shaken him awake but he calmed down once she told them that they had found a cruise ship and they had gotten permission to land.

In his sleepy haze, Brock didn't really process what she was saying until he noticed another light source shining through the ice covered windows and the holes in the bulkhead. After twenty or so minutes, he felt the craft start to descend, followed by the familiar jolt of an aircraft landing. Jessie slid the door open once the aircraft was fully grounded and the rotor blades stopped. A pair of paramedics and an older gentleman — whom Brock assumed was the ship's captain — waited for them at the end of the helipad.

Jessie hopped off and went straight to the man who was the spitting image of Drake, the Hoenn Elite Four dragon trainer. Paramedics were ready to assist her but she waved them off and gestured to Brock, Dawn, and Ash. They waited until all three of them stepped out of the aircraft. The moment Ash's Pikachu appeared, they backed away.

"We're going to have to ask that you put the pokémon back in its ball," one of them said in a calm, yet authoritative tone.

"Why?" Ash demanded. He forced the sleep from his eyes and replaced them with a steely glare.

"Safety protocols." The paramedic's tone remained neutral but there was an undercurrent of steel in his voice.

"Pikachu isn't going to cause any proble—" Brock's attempts at defending Pikachu were cut short.

"I understand sir, but if you're going to board this ship, then you have to put that creature into—"

"He's not a creature! He's my best friend and he has just as much right as we do to be out here!" Ash growled. The spark of anger in him had flared into a raging inferno.

"Can't you make an exception?" Jessie begged. She turned to the older man who was wearing a naval-style uniform. The golden nametag on his uniform identified him as Captain Matthews. "They've had a really rough night. The girl just lost her mother and we've all lost pokémon just trying to get off the mainland. That Pikachu is the only reason any of us are alive to talk to you right now."

Jessie had been able to cry on command before. It was a feat that she often attributed to her skill as an aspiring actress. Normally, all it would take was for her to focus on her memories of the orphanage and all her consecutive failures throughout her life and the tears would begin to flow. This time however she had a load of fresh new memories to draw from and it was easy — almost too easy —to get her eyes to shimmer and her vision to swim. "My Wobbuffet is dying right now and he's all I have left." She sniffled. "We've lost our homes, our relatives and our belongings. Please...don't take away what we have left."

The older man sighed and gave her a sad stare but still shook his head. "I'm sorry for your loss, but before our communications were cut from the mainland we received reports about pokémon attacks. I am responsible for the well-being of the crew and passengers. I'll make sure that you and your pokémon receive medical attention but your pokémon must remain in their pokéballs until further notice."

"I'll stay here on the helicopter then." Ash sharply pivoted on his heel and headed back to the aircraft.

"I'm afraid that while you and your aircraft are on this ship, you must keep your pokémon in its pokéball."

Ash froze at Captain Matthews's order. He whipped around and glared at the older man. The trainer's eyes smoldered with barely concealed rage.

"Just do what he says, Ash!" Dawn yelled. It was the first time she had spoken in hours.

"_Take care of my daughter_." Johanna's voice echoed in his ears, still so painfully fresh in his mind. Ash clenched his shaking fists until they were white; his fingernails dug into his palms and nearly drew blood. A few seconds passed before he removed the backpack from his shoulder. He reached inside, grabbed a pokéball he hadn't touched in years and pulled it out.

Ash was tempted to toss the capture device overboard in blatant act of defiance to see what Captain Matthews did, but one look at Dawn ended that line of thinking.

Brock could feel the unease of Ash and that of the staff members around them. He could understand their tension; both sides had legitimate reasons for their concerns. In all their years together and all the places they had been to, Brock had never seen anyone make Ash put Pikachu in his pokéball. But times were different now; it wasn't just them that the captain had to worry about.

Pikachu scampered over to his trainer and reached out to the pokéball in Ash's hand. Ash looked into his starter's eyes and whispered an apology. He reluctantly let the sphere slip from his fingers and into Pikachu's paws. Pikachu caught it and placed it on the ground at his feet, looking up at Ash with a weak smile.

"Pi-Pikachu, Pika-pi," Pikachu said.

"You sure?" Despite being variations of the syllables of his name, Pikachu's statement was perfectly comprehensible by Ash. It was an understanding forged by years of journeying together. And it was what made Ash's decision so difficult.

The electric mouse nodded, his paw hovering over the pokéball for a few seconds. With a deep breath, he pressed his paw to the metal button on the front of the pokéball. His body metamorphosed into to crimson energy and disappeared into the sphere. Ash could only stand and stare at the capture sphere for a few seconds before bending down to pick it up. He silently walked back towards the group.

Some of the tension dissipated from the cruise staff and Dawn, but not from Brock or the Rocket trio. Jessie traded glances with the oldest twerp and her teammates through the cracked windshield; the weight of what had just happened still registering in their minds. Ash's face was locked in a grim and anguished look as the paramedics let them pass.

Brock, Ash and Dawn were guided down a flight of stairs, then through a series of hallways and down an elevator before they finally reached the medical bay of the cruise ship. Jessie, James and Meowth had not come down with them. Brock could only assume they were explaining the situation to those in charge.

The doctors there practically interrogated him. The boy hoped he had given them coherent answers. But in the daze of exhaustion, he wasn't even sure what they had asked of him. Once everyone had been examined and given the all clear, they asked to leave their pokémon in the medical bay while they got some rest. Knowing it was a losing battle, Ash didn't even put up a fight and wordlessly left his pokéballs with the others and followed their guide.

They took another elevator up and were escorted to an interior cabin at the stern of the ship. The room's defining furniture was a single blue love seat hugging the western wall and facing a large wooden cabinet. A flat screen television mounted on a metal arm was tucked into the cabinet.

On the northern wall was a bed flanked by two ladders that led to a set of bunk beds. Next to the ladders were two doors that led to a bathroom and a closet respectively.

Ash shambled forward like a zombie, climbing up the white ladder and crashing onto unceremoniously the top bunk. Dawn made no attempt at climbing the ladder and settled for crawling into bottom bed where she immediately curled into a ball. Brock climbed up to the bunk atop Ash's own and collapsed onto his back. He could hear Dawn's ragged breathing every so often before they evened out into soft snores. The breeder could only stare at the ceiling above him and wonder whether or not their luck had finally changed.

* * *

When he fell asleep after that thought was anyone's guess, but the he had soon fallen into the deepest sleep he had ever been in. He wasn't sure what jolted him awake but he figured it might've had something to do with his body being covered in sweat and tangled in moist sheets.

Brock slumped back onto his bed and debated whether or not he should start sleeping again but the dread of what had happened banished rendered sleep a distant memory. The only light source in the room was a yellow light filtering through the peephole in the door at the south end of the room. In his current state, time had no meaning. He wasn't sure if he had slept half an hour or half the day. The hunger in his belly was poor indicator, considering how late they had stayed up and how long it was since their last meal.

Brock moved over to the door as quietly as he could, not wanting to wake Ash and Dawn from whatever sleep they'd be able to get. He slid his hand along the door until his hand brushed against the cold metal of the handle.

A line of light pushed through the darkness and grew wider as he slowly opened the door. It took Brock some time to adjust to the brightness but he eventually popped his head out into the hallway and looked around.

An ornate red carpet with black and bronze swirling floral patterns covered the floor. The walls were a speckled beige, broken only by pink doors that led to other cabins or supply closets. There seemed to be no end to the hallway and no people in sight, at least until he turned and saw what he could only assume was a guard leaning against the wall opposite their cabin.

"Evening." The forced cheer in the man's voice gave away the fact that the rather be anywhere else on this boat than guarding a few kids.

"Evening?" Brock echoed, his tone tinged with uncertainty. "What time is it?"

"It's a quarter past seven," he replied with a glance at his watch. "I'm Officer Marsh. I'll be here to assist you during your time on the _Prism Scale_." Brock couldn't help but note that the way he said "assist" sounded like a euphemism for "watch".

Officer Marsh continued. "If there's anything you need, I'll have someone from the staff get it for you. Captain Matthews has decided that you and your friends won't be charged for the room or any room service concerning meals while on your stay, within reason. Telecommunications and Internet are currently down for the time being, but feel free to use the television and order any food or the movies we have listed."

Brock could tell that Officer Marsh knew exactly why communications and Internet were down and was aware that the breeder knew the cause as well.

"Do you have any questions?" he added when Brock's only response was a silent stare.

"And if we want to leave the cabin and see other parts of the ship?" Brock asked.

Officer Marsh maintained his plastered smile, though the slight wrinkle of his brow and the slightest twitch in the corner of his eye gave his irritation away. "Captain Matthews has asked that during your stay aboard the _Prism Scale _that you remain in your cabin until further notice. We'll try to make your stay as comfortable as possible."

Brock's expression remained neutral but a flash of anger ran through him. He couldn't help but feel like a prisoner. _At least it beats being dead_. He thought.

Officer Marsh continued. "In the event of an emergency, you'll hear an alarm ring seven times, signaling you to head to your muster station where you can take one of the life boats off the cruise. If you show these cards to one of the staff they will help guide you to your station. There's also life jackets in your cabin's closet that you can bring with you. Should you happen to forget, they will be provided to you at the muster station." Officer Marsh then produced the requisite ID cards.

Brock stared at the cards in the officer's hand and took them before giving a curt nod and disappearing behind the door. Once it was closed behind him, Brock turned around and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. He could still hear Ash and Dawn's snores drifting out from the darkness of the room. A large part of him didn't want them to ever wake up; as long as they were asleep, they could remain in their land of dreams and forget about what they had gone through.

As the memories floated back to the surface of his thoughts, he could feel a chilling dread seep into the marrow of his bones. Brock tried to convince himself it was all a dream; that he had somehow imagined it all. A product of an overactive imagination. But the more and more he looked around the room, he knew he couldn't deny the circumstances that brought them there.

Brock's hands reached up to his face in a pitiful attempt to block out the world. As his hands slid down his face he felt his hair matted to the surface of his sweat-slick brow. He looked around and saw the door the left of the bed leading to what he assumed was the bathroom. Opening the door revealed a toilet, a sink, a mirror and a shower.

Normally, Brock would've found it cramped but after everything that had happened he was grateful there was running water. He undressed and stepped in to the glass tube that was the shower and slid the doors close behind him. The showerhead was detachable, so he grabbed it and aimed it to floor before turning on the water.

The cold water hitting his feet woke him up a bit until it started to heat up as he turned the dial. Locking the showerhead back into place, he let the water pour onto his head and reveled in the warmth that spread down his scalp and over his face. He felt the soothing liquid slide down his back and the rest of his body before disappearing down the drain.

Brock stood motionless for several minutes, leaning forward until his head pressed against the wall. He closed his eyes and tried to lose himself in the sensation and the sound of the water; steam was already starting to rise from the floor and fog the glass. Opening his eyes he saw the water at his feet darkened. Layers of grime and sweat he'd accumulated over the last few days were finally being washed off.

"If only my memories could do the same," he muttered.

Here he was, enjoying a hot shower while Roark and Johanna's bodies were back at Sinnoh. Brock's hand hovered over the knob that controlled the temperature. He pondered if making the water as cold as possible would absolve him of his sins.

"I don't deserve this," he whispered, slamming his fist into the wall before letting it slide down to his side. The idea that Johanna and Roark had died to allow them these simple pleasures made him feel sick. He tried to assuage his guilt by reassuring himself that the two would have wanted the group to enjoy even the simplest of pleasures. All that did was make him feel even worse.

Brock didn't have to confront Jessie or James about what they did because a part of him agreed with their choice.

"_Wasn't it their choice for us to go?_"

Brock knew that something was anchoring the aircraft to the ground; Gliscor and Staravia had been sent out to free them. Some time after Johanna had been taken, they were finally free. Ash had hoped that Staravia and Gliscor had found a way to dislodge them and would follow them out to sea to rejoin them but the two never appeared.

They had either succeeded and fallen in battle. Or died trying. Maybe Roark and Johanna had found away to cut them loose, staying behind to make sure they could get away.

"_You need to get out of here now! I'll do my best to hold them off!_"

Roark's final words echoed in his mind. Brock felt his eyes beginning to burn as the shallowly buried memories resurfaced. Brock gritted his teeth and punched the shower wall repeatedly, not loud enough to make any real noise or do any real damage but enough for his knuckles to hurt from the abuse. He understood Johanna's position; he himself had to assume the role of parent for his brothers and sisters for many years. Were it his life versus theirs, he would trade it to make sure that they had a future.

"I just hope I have a family to come home to," he muttered.

Amidst the water running down his face, no one would've been able to make out the tears streaming down his eyes.

* * *

Ash was the next to wake up by the time Brock had finished showering and dressed. He gestured towards the bathroom, steam curling out from the open door. The trainer from Pallet said nothing as he walked past him and closed the door. Brock slumped into the blue love seat along the wall. Soon, the patter of water issued from the bathroom.

He was starting to get hungry and he figured Ash and Dawn would eventually start feeling the same way. Knowing Ash's stomach, the act of finding something that he would eat wasn't going to be difficult. The hard part would be coaxing Dawn to get something —anything — into her system.

If the siege on Hearthome had made her lose her appetite, then he'd hate to think what the previous night had done to her. Brock's siblings had been picky eaters and he'd learned a few tricks to get them to eat their meals, especially veggies. But he had to remind himself that Dawn wasn't his sister, no matter how much he saw her as such. Convincing her to eat felt like an entirely different dimension of difficulty. One that he didn't look forward to taking on.

He walked over to the television cabinet and pulled out one of the shelves. Neatly arranged on the wooden shelf were several brochures of offshore excursions and event schedules inside. Eventually he came across a menu and read through it a few times before settling on what to order. Rather than call room service and risk waking Dawn, he wrote down their orders on the provided notepad and handed the sheet to Officer Marsh.

The food arrived forty minutes later and by that time, Dawn was awake and Ash had finished showering. Brock's attempts at trying to cheer either of them up were met with grim indifference. He watched them eat their food but they didn't look like they were really tasting what they were eating. At first, Dawn picked at her meal but her hunger ended up winning out.

The following silence — broken only but the soft clatter of silverware — was becoming so stifling that Brock had to find something the shatter it. He grabbed the remote control and turned on the TV, filling the room with music and voices. Dawn and Ash flinched at the sudden noise before turning to see if there was news of the outside world.

Brock didn't have the heart to tell them that the chances of that happening were slim to none, but kept flipping through channels to humor them. Most of what was on consisted of movies of various genres with cartoons mixed in. Brock eventually settled on a channel dedicated to events that happened on the cruise.

There was a segment where Ricky — the cruise director — was animatedly going over the day's earlier cannonball contest at the swimming pools on the top deck. The highlights of the contest were displayed and along with the delivery of his lines and his antics, all managed to evoke a small smile from the breeder. Brock turned to Ash and Dawn. Both of them wore scowls overflowing with disgust and anger.

On the screen were people of all colors and ages laughing and smiling; all blissfully unaware of the death and destruction going on in the mainland. What had been meant as a distraction had become a disgusting mockery of their trials. Brock quickly turned the TV off before he asked if they wanted to watch something. Without a word Ash stood up from where he sat at the edge of the bed and started heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Brock asked.

"Outside." Ash's reply was cold.

"Why?" Brock's tone was a bit sterner than he had intended, but he pressed on.

"I'm tired of being in this room." Ash was a boy of action; sitting still and doing nothing made him agitated.

"Ash…we can't leave the cabin. At least not yet."

"What're you talking about?" Venom crept into Ash's voice. His frown deepened when Brock shook his head.

"They've got a security guard in the hall making sure we stay inside."

"Why!?" Ash yelled. "We're not criminals! We haven't done anything wrong!"

"Well maybe…" Brock yelled back before catching himself and calming down. "Maybe it's because we know about what's going on out on the mainland and they don't want to create panic on the boat."

"I won't tell them anything."

"You and I both know that, but they probably don't want to take any chances."

"They should know?" Ash crossed his arms which elicited another frustrated groan from the breeder.

"You're probably right, Ash. They should know." Brock's reply was chilly. "But telling them now isn't going to make things better. What could they possibly do out in the middle of the ocean?"

"We need to go back." Dawn's voice was barely above a whisper. A pair of pointed stares were all she got in response.

"Dawn…" Brock was about to ask her why but he had an idea.

"My mom is still back there." Her hands wrung the ends of her skirt as she desperately fought to contain the maelstrom of emotions raging within her.

Although all evidence pointed to Johanna and Roark having died back at Twinleaf; Brock and Ash knew better than to disagree with Dawn in her current state. Neither of them wanted to ask about how she knew her mother was still alive. Technically, none of them saw Johanna die. And for all they knew, it was her efforts that allowed them to escape the Ariados. Maybe she had gotten away once they were free. They could argue about the what-ifs for the duration of the cruise. But until they went back to Twinleaf, they couldn't be sure.

"Dawn, your mom—" Ash stopped cold at the sight of Dawn's tears rolling down her cheeks. He took a deep breath and continued. "She…when I reached for her, she told me to take care of you. I promise that we'll go back as soon as we can. Brock's…right. We don't have a way of getting back there while we're on this boat."

"What about the plane-helicopter thing we were on?" Dawn asked. She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.

"The fuel, Dawn." Brock found his perfect moment to enter into the conversation. "We're on this boat in the first place because James wasn't sure if we had enough fuel to even make it over the ocean to Kanto. Even if we tried to go back to Sinnoh; we might not even make it back at the rate that this boat has been moving."

"As soon as I find out what's happening in Pallet town, I'll find a way for us to get back," Ash said.

Brock resisted the urge to comment on the nature of making promises that you couldn't keep. Dawn needed to hear this right now; it would give her something to work towards and help her through this difficult time.

A few seconds passed before Ash broke the silence again. "Where's Team Rocket?" He looked around the room as if expecting them to emerge from the closet or bathroom.

"Probably in the same situation as us," Dawn replied, wiping away the tears with a pillow she hugged against her chest.

"Maybe there's a way to talk to them," Brock said aloud, looking at the phone and then to the door. He walked over to the door and peeked through the peephole before opening it. He had expected to see Officer Marsh, but saw that a new guard had taken his place. Brock hoped this new guard would give them more leeway.

The new guard had the same police-style uniform and cap that Officer Marsh wore. Dirty blond hair peeked out from underneath his cap as his green eyes stared off into some distant memory as he stroked the stubble on his chin.

"Excuse me," Brock said after a fake cough.

The officer turned and looked with him with a smile. "I'm Officer Davies. I'll be taking over for Officer Marsh for now. Can I help you?"

"When we landed on the boat we were with other people. I know we can't leave this room, but is there a way for us to speak with them?"

"I'm pretty sure there is. Let me find out what room they're in and get back to you."

Brock nodded and retreated back inside, explaining what had happened to Dawn and Ash. Within a few minutes they heard a knock on the door with the guard giving them the number to Team Rocket's room and instructions on how to contact them.

Brock quickly went over to the room phone and dialed in the number. He nervously fiddled with the phone cord as he waited for someone to pick up.

He let loose an involuntary sigh of relief when he heard a click on the other end.

"_Yes?_" Jessie's voice radiated uncertainty.

"_Jessie, it's me, Brock,_" the breeder said into the handset.

The line was quiet for a few seconds before he heard James's voice in the background, asking who was calling. A muffled mention of "the twerps" made it through the line despite Jessie's efforts to cover the receiver.

"_How…are you?_" Jessie asked. The words sounded foreign when directed at him.

"_We're…okay_," Brock replied. He found it downright surreal that he was having a relatively cordial conversation with the Team Rocket operative who had tried so many times to steal their pokémon. "_Do you know what's going on? They won't let us leave our cabins and they've got a guard outside making sure we don't try._"

"_That's just part of the agreement_."

"_Agreement?_" Brock asked

"_We spoke with the people in charge and explained the situation. Apparently they've been cut off from the mainland since yesterday. Before they lost contact, they got an idea of what was happening and they've been on high alert since then. They're trying to keep everything that happening out there hush-hush until they get close enough to their destination and send out a boat to see if things are safe before actually docking._"

"_Where is this boat heading to_?"

"_Some tropical island region called Alola. Never been there but I'm sure it's nice. I'd kill to soak some rays and get myself a mart—-Okay James! Relax, I'll tell them_!" Jessie sighed before starting up again "_Where was I_?"

"_They'll let us stay here free of charge as long as we don't abuse their generosity_," Brock said.

"_Anyways,_ _after everything we told them last night, they figured it was the least they could do. We're not going to be here long. The route they're taking gets us just close enough to make it the rest of the way to Kanto. Unless you want to stay. In the meantime, they want to keep up the illusion that everything is okay_."

"_How does nobody know about what's happening!_?" Brock failed to keep the shock out of his voice.

"_Without Internet access or telephones, there's almost no way to get any information outside of this boat. Only a select few members of the staff know about what's going on and they can write off the incidents that've happened as some freak accident._"

"_Incidents?_" Brock twirled the cord around his fingers.

"_This is a specialty luxury cruise with one of the main rules being that you can't bring your pokémon on board unless you're willing to pay for them based on their size and typing and are okay with only letting them out only in certain parts of the boat. Not a lot of people were willing to fork over the extra cash to bring their pokémon with them and those that did had smaller pokémon not trained for battling. Apparently no one died when the pokémon on this boat started going nuts and the amount of damage they caused wasn't very serious._"

"_So how long are we going to be here then?_" Brock asked.

"_James figures the time we've already spent on the boat should is enough. This boat is cruising a few kilometers from the coast of Kanto and will keep doing so for another day or so. We could leave now, but we have one more day before we're too far from the coast. We also asked the captain if he would let us know when we're close enough so we can depart. I know being stuck in a cabin isn't best way to go on a cruise, but it beats having to fight for our lives_."

Brock's only reply was to nod as Jessie outlined their plans. "_So I guess you guys are stuck in your rooms too?_"

"_Pretty much, but it's by far the nicest place we've been imprisoned in. I say sit tight and relax while it lasts._"

"_We'll try_." Brock placed the phone back in its cradle and turn to face his younger companions. Within a few minutes he relayed the information and with little else for them to do, he suggested that Dawn might feel better after a shower. She didn't put up much of a fight and made her way to the bathroom.

Half an hour passed before Brock decided to check on Dawn who had spent more time in the shower than both Ash and him combined. Dawn eventually left the bathroom. She was dressed in a fresh set of clothes with her wet hair woven into a braid. She was about to say something when they all felt the cabin shift slightly.

"What was that?" Dawn asked, the fear in her eyes growing.

"Probably just a rough wave." Brock's tone betrayed the skepticism in his words. With no windows to the outside, they had no way of knowing how rough the waters actually were.

"Brock, you don't think it is gonna be like the _S.S. Anne_?" Ash asked.

Brock started to shake his head but stopped, his face paling as he did so.

"_S.S. Anne_?" Dawn asked.

"Four years ago in the Kanto region, Ash, our friend Misty and myself were invited onto a cruise ship," Brock said. "What we didn't know was that it was actually a trap by Team Rocket to steal the pokémon of everyone onboard. Everyone managed to fight them off, but we entered a storm which ended up capsizing the ship. Though we're on a bigger ship so that might not happen this time."

Brock's ending words were quickly undermined when the cabin shifted even more violently and the lights began to flicker.

Dawn struggled to find her footing as the boat leveled itself. Ash was gripping the edge of the bed he sat on until his knuckles were white. Cries from the neighboring rooms filtered through the walls.

Ash nearly leapt across the room when their telephone rang. Brock turned and scrambled to pick it up.

"_Hello_?" he said, fumbling slightly as he tried not to drop the handset.

"_Brock?_" James's voice came through the handset.

"_James, do you know what's going on?_"

"_No. Not yet. But I think we both know it's not good. Did your guard leave yet?_"

"_What? I don't know. So, wait...yours left?_" Brock turned away from the phone and covered the receiver with his hand. "Ash, go check and see if there's an officer still outside."

"_Ours left a few minutes ago. It looked like he was contacted and just up and left us. Whatever is going on is more important than watching our cabin._"

"There's a bunch of people outside but no one that looks like a guard," Ash called back after closing the door.

"_I think it's time we made for the tilt-rotor_," Brock said.

"_I think you're right. We're on one of the upper decks near the front, what about you?_"

"_I'm not entirely sure but I think we're near the back. How about we just meet you at the helipad?_" Brock replied. The ship rocked even more violently than before, forcing Brock to use his free hand to steady himself. Another round of screams emanated from the hallway.

"_Meowth and Wobbuffet are still down in the medical bay_," James said.

"Our _pokémon are down there too. We'll head down and grab them for you. Get the tilt-rotor ready and we'll meet you at the helipad_."

"_Sounds like a plan_." The line then disconnected just as lights in their room flickered. Brock wasn't sure if James hung up or if the shipboard communications systems had failed.

"Okay guys, we'll grab everything we need and make for the medical station. We're gonna pick up our pokémon as well as Team Rocket's and make our way to the helipad at the front of the ship," Brock said as he started putting on his shoes.

Dawn was shaking in place but eventually nodded and started gathering her things into her bag.

"There's some lifejackets in the closet. Think we'll need them?" Ash asked, holding up what looked like an rectangular block of plastic covered foam.

"Let's take them anyway," Brock said as he turned around to scan the room for anything else they would need. "And pray we won't need them," he added under his breath.

* * *

**Next, Chapter 13: Surf In Turf**


End file.
